Protecting Their Child (9 page)

“Should I ask what you see that I don’t?”

“Backup lights around the next curve.”

“Someone’s waiting for us? How did they know?” She saw his raised eyebrow with the glow of the dash lights until he pushed the button cutting everything off. “This doesn’t mean anything, Cord. Nick’s place is the closest around. They must have been watching. No one there called Serna’s men.”

“Right.”

It wasn’t the time to tell him his I’m-a-Texas-Ranger-and-know-everything attitude didn’t help their relationship. Or get a cooperative attitude. So it was up to her to just ignore it. She could do that.

“How do we get around them?”

“We can’t.”

“Then we turn around? Just tell me what your plan is. Good grief, Cord, you are so frustrating.”

“We walk,” he said, backing the Jeep to the side of the road.

“You think they’ve got someone waiting on the south road, too.” Leaving the car was insane. How could he possibly think they’d be successful? What were the odds they could be? “You’re serious that we should walk?”

“You know I am.”

She did know and didn’t argue. “It’s going to be a tremendously hard hike. Cold, muddy...it may continue to storm, maybe snow. We have no camping or climbing gear. Shoot, we don’t even have raincoats. And you want us to hike straight over a mountain—in the dark?”

“Don’t forget, Serna’s men will probably follow us.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

“Glad you agree.”

If they headed west, they’d be completely in the open and easily seen in daylight. So east over the mountain was the only way. In normal weather and daylight, the hike might take them several hours. Probably an entire day. Under these conditions and without the proper supplies...

“Cord?”

His hand covered hers, stretched over their child. “I know. I won’t let anything happen to you, babe. Either of you. But it’s our only option.”

She put on her outer coat, scarf and gloves, attempting to keep as much warmth for as long as she could. She popped the door open and Cord pulled her around to face him.

“I swear it, Kathleen.”

The raw promise in his eyes gave her the confidence to take the first step on a hellish journey.

Chapter Twelve

What the hell had he been thinking? When he watched Kate’s feet slip on loose rocks, his heart paused, taking a full second to catch up with the realization that she hadn’t fallen. Ten or fifteen minutes and the stress began taking its toll. He could only imagine what this hike would do to Kate. They couldn’t afford to stop and discuss how the near misses were affecting her.

Near misses? This was nothing. This was a path at the bottom of the hill that was at the bottom of a steep grade to the top. To avoid the steep rock faces, they’d have to walk a couple of miles either direction.

Kate stopped and began stretching her back. “Sure wish we had a flashlight.” She waved her hand at him and caught her breath. “Oh, I know we couldn’t use it now. They’d be able to see it from the Burke’s ranch house. But I wish we had one for later.”

“Do you think I should go first?” he asked, uncertain if it were safer to climb in front and check the path or behind her in case she fell.

She threw her gloved hands in the air. “I’m moving as fast as I can,” she said, the frustration of talking to him plain in her voice.

“That’s not why I asked.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t think there’s a good—or safe—way to accomplish this, Cord.”

He looked back to the Jeep as he had every two minutes. A car dome light flickered on and off. “They found the car.”

“We should get moving. Any idea where we’re heading? Especially without our cells?”

“We couldn’t use them without being found, babe.” The familiar endearment slipped out before he caught himself.

“There’s nothing on the other side other than the state park and observatory.”

“Then that’s where we head. The observatory has satellites. People equal phones and they have a field for a helicopter to land.”

“Good grief, do you know how far that is? What’s wrong with hitching a ride to the highway?” She rolled her shoulders, swung her arms back and forth as if she were warming up for her workout video.

“Not safe. We don’t know who’s in the car—driving or holding a gun to the back of their head.”

She shared a deflated long sigh. “You’re right. I don’t want anyone else hurt. But you know we’re headed to the highest point in the mountains and there isn’t
anything
between here and there. No ranches, no Ranger stations and we have no cell phones.”

The heavy mist that would have eventually soaked them turned into bigger plops on their jackets. Kate got hit in the face. All she had was that old crocheted thing she’d made with her mother many years ago. When he’d “borrowed” his jeans and shirt, he should have found Kate a suitable brim to keep the rain off her.

“Better get after it then. Wait.” He placed his favorite hat on top of her worn cap. She gave him a genuine smile with lots of white, straight teeth and didn’t argue.

Kate set a steady, careful pace. Easy for him to follow and keep watch for men who might be following. So far there weren’t any lights flashing around below. Their mud-caked boots—neither pair made for hiking—contributed to the consistent slipping, adding another layer of danger to their journey.

Within minutes they were soaked. The temperature had to be just above freezing. Cord glanced at his watch again. They’d been climbing forty-five minutes with very limited headway. Kate slowed for another short catch-her-breath minute. They’d taken several and his back was more thankful than his lungs.

“There’s too much rain to locate our position,” he shared. “Think we should use a compass?”

Even at the slow pace she’d maintained, Kate huffed a couple of times before answering. “At this point, using a compass is pointless. There’s really only one path—even though I use that term very loosely.” She put her head down to avoid the pelting rain and took another step, falling to her knee, then waving him off. “I’m okay. Better get used to it. A scraped knee will soon be the least of our worries.”

She pointed to the rock face just above them. This little trek wouldn’t get them over that. They’d have to climb.

God help him, but how had things come to this?
He
was the one putting his wife in harm’s way now.
Ex-wife.
The shrink’s voice popped into his head.
She’s forever tied to me now,
his own voice replied. Family. He could think of his child and his child’s mother as family.

“We can’t attempt to climb in this weather. I don’t think anyone’s following—they probably haven’t been since they didn’t know which direction we’d taken off.”

“And this isn’t the logical choice.”

“Nope.” He pointed ahead. “There enough trail to make it to the bottom? Might find a bit of an overhang for protection. If we stop here, we’re fairly exposed to the elements.”

“I can make it, Cord. Don’t worry about me.” She turned and got going.

From the looks of things, they had at least another hour and a half before hitting the base. He stretched his back, swung his arms a bit slower than Kate had. The pain shot up his spine with the first step.

“I know you can make it, superwoman,” he mumbled to himself. “It’s me I have doubts about.”

* * *

“T
HE
RANCH
HANDS
were told that the McCreas left the Jeep when they were picked up by the Sheriff’s department.” He leaned against the post in the bunkhouse, crossing his arms, looking—if not feeling—like he was unconcerned.

The hands had gone home when the rain let up. He’d lied as a couple passed the unattended Jeep, bringing attention to the missing couple. If it hadn’t been for his warning, Serna’s men would have been caught standing there with their thumbs tied to their automatic weapons.

“And they bought it?” Serna asked, demanded and shouted all on one long exhale.

The idiot had arrived shortly after the hands had left. He’d be lucky if no one in the main house noticed the lights out here. If they did, he’d explain it. He always did.

“Why wouldn’t they? They don’t suspect anything.” He relaxed his face as soon as he realized he’d been scowling. He didn’t appreciate being constantly questioned. It irritated the hell out of him, and it killed him to hold his tongue.

“We should send the men out to hunt them down like animals.” Serna paced the length of the room like a caged mountain cat, a disgusted look on his haggard face as he passed each of the six men trying to dry off.

Serna’s boys looked like drowned Chihuahuas. It took a lot of control not to laugh at their ruined expensive shoes. He covered his mouth with a hand, determined not to make a bad situation worse by taunting their stupidity with a smile. They were in the damn mountains dressed in slacks and imported footwear.

“Waste of time right now. Your men ain’t experienced and you have no idea which direction McCrea took off. Best to just use the chopper.”

Serna slapped the old pine table in the middle of the room with both palms. “We don’t have another pilot here till morning. You said it would take another hour to get him to the canyon and then there are repairs.”

“Yep, there is that.”

Serna fingered the butt of his handgun while getting close enough that the stinking, stale smell of cigarettes drifted from his heavy breathing. “Be careful of your tone, my
friend.
Have you forgotten our deal?”

Such a jackass.

He stood straight, pushing himself closer. “I haven’t.”

A gun was pulled to his left. A loud warning to back off. The kid Serna had chastised that morning was just new enough to think he might be making a place for himself if he pulled the trigger. Drawing a deep, silent breath through his nose, he reminded himself of his endgame. The money. Serna was just a bad card necessary for the first round. But, unlike the unknown card he might be dealt, the winning pot was within his grasp.

He just needed to hold his tongue a little while longer.

“Can you remind your boy we’re on the same side? Guns make me nervous.” Far from it, there was a fully loaded peashooter in his inside jacket pocket.

“You’re in the wrong line of work, friend.”

“Edward, go sit with Ricky.” Serna waved off the kid, who retreated. Then gestured to the table. “Come, sit. We’ll relax.”

“Radar said snow’s likely. Just a suggestion, but you might consider leaving while you can still get to that pilot of yours.” He opened the door next to him.

“Always thinking. Nice.” Serna’s words didn’t reflect the anger trapped in his eyes.

The man wants to kill me as badly as I want him out of the way.

But he left. And thanks to the storm, no one at the house heard their jacked-up cars start or leave. If they had, there would be lights and coffee. The others wouldn’t hesitate to ask what was going on. There had already been too many questions about why McCrea had left without telling anyone.

Fortunately, it had been written off as part of the Ranger’s overcautiousness concerning Kate.

Two days. That’s all he needed. Just two days. If the weather cleared and held, he’d be free of this pompous jackass, the men with imported shoes and, most important, the distraction the McCreas were causing.

Chapter Thirteen

“This is good, Kate,” Cord called from the first level spot they’d come to since they’d run out of path.

Kate could see a slight—very slight—jutting of rocks that might block a smidgen of the rain. She got another handhold, positioned her right foot and used what was left of her biceps. Her arms shook. The rest of her body felt like deadweight as she tugged and searched with the toe of her boot for the foothold she’d spied a few minutes earlier.

“I swear, Kate, this is as far as we go tonight,” he demanded, his hands resting on his waist, legs spread to support him, and his serious face tipped up. “Promise me!”

She knew he was shouting. It was the only way to be heard between the cracks of thunder. The lightning didn’t worry her. During one of the flashes, she could see that the cars next to Nick’s Jeep were gone. Hopefully, so were the men.

But she was cold. Wet. Exhausted. And tired of the rain pelting her face. Or Cord’s. Thank goodness Cord had been below her and caught his hat when it tipped and blew off her head.

With rock under her toe, she used her very sore thigh muscles to get a little closer to their perch for the rest of the night. One more and she could...

No more up. Her right hand connected with a flat surface—okay, flat compared to what they’d been looking at over the past hour. “Almost there.”

“Please be careful. Slow.”

If I moved any slower I’d be a slug.
“Got it.”

Left hand. Bring up your first foot. And now the second. Almost.

“Kate!”

Oh, God. No!

Her bare hands skidded across wet, slick rock as she desperately used all ten nails to grip anything. Nothing. Her left boot found a larger rock, stopping the downward slide. She’d fallen at least three feet. The three scariest feet of her life.

“Stay where you are!”

She couldn’t do anything else. She’d barely heard him with the blood blasting its thump-thump-thump to prove she was still alive. It would take her a minute to get her racing heart under control so she could climb. Her hands were torn to shreds and she had no idea how to get them to work. She couldn’t get her eyes to open.

It seemed safer to keep her focus on the backs of her eyelids.

How are you going to do this, Miss frozen-in-place?

There’s a way. One hand. Let go and move one hand. Search for the next handhold. Kathleen McCrea, you have to think of the baby. Move it!

She couldn’t. If she moved an inch...if she let go... The sensation of falling took over. She had to hold on. Just stay put until it was safer.

But the hard reality was she couldn’t manage to stay there much longer.

“Cord? I...I’m not sure I—”

“Shut up, Kathleen. You have to do this. We’re going up.”

Kate knew she moved. Cord talked her through every grip. It seemed that he watched every breath she took. And then they were at the ledge again.

“What now?” she asked, not certain it was loud enough to be heard but unable to maintain strength anywhere other than her fingers.

“Stay put. Don’t move or talk or open your eyes. And especially don’t argue with me.”

He knew her too well.

And this once, she didn’t object to being told what to do. She couldn’t laugh about it. He was right. She had to concentrate on holding on. Staying put. Maybe after everything was over...

“Kathleen!”

“Yeah?”

“Give me your hand, hon.”

Cord was above her, on the ledge. He had a death grip on her wrist. He pulled, and she braced her feet, helped as much as she could. He switched from her wrist and arms and tugged on her coat. Lying on her belly—halfway on the rock, halfway hanging—he grunted loudly and she shot onto the three-foot ledge.

Kate joined Cord’s hat, placing her back to the wall, covering her face with her blood-scraped hands. Breathing deeply and crying loudly.

“You’re safe, Kate. The baby’s safe. We’re all safe. It’s not your fault,” Cord whispered in her ear. “Come on now, hon. Look at me.”

“My fault?” She did look at him and sat. Water streamed across his concerned forehead, running down the tip of his nose. “Why do you think I’d blame myself?”

He grinned crookedly, lifting the right side of his mouth and slightly shaking his head. He tossed his hands a bit into the air, turning to join her by resting against the rocks. As uncomfortable as it was, she was tremendously grateful to be there.

“Oh, I know it’s my fault. Everything usually is nowadays.
You
were the one saying it.” He pulled his knees to his chest and obviously stretched his back.

“I didn’t say...” Shoot, maybe while she was crying she had. It didn’t matter. She was done with the pity party. “Do you think we’ll be safe enough here to sleep?”

“That was the plan at the last ledge. You going to sleep this time?”

“Yes. You going to share your warmth?”

“Sure.” He held up his arm and she slid into place. “I’ll take my hat back unless you need it.”

“No,” she said, handing his hat to him and snuggling into the crook of his arm. “This is perfect.”

And somehow...it was.

* * *

T
HE
SUN
RISING
over the ridges to their left woke him, but as stiff as he was, he didn’t move. He was stretched on his side, Kate wedged between him and the mountain, her arm stuck under his. Her hands were gloved once again and snug inside his jacket pocket.

They’d shifted to lying next to each other once the rain stopped.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning.” He attempted to sit up.

“Not yet. I finally got halfway not cold.”

“Halfway not cold?” he asked, giving in since he wasn’t ready to move, either. They may be on a three-foot ledge, but they were close.

“Can’t say halfway warm. I don’t consider soggy and freezing as warm. But I’m not as frozen through with you blocking most of the wind.”

“Good to be needed.” He carefully maneuvered the ledge, shifting next to her. “You’ll feel better with some food and water in you.”

“I doubt that. How’s your back?”

“Not bad,” he lied, popping the top on a bottle of pain reliever. “Will two of these hurt the baby?”

She took them and washed them down with some water. Guess that answered his question.

“I’m sorry I pushed it last night, Cord.”

“Don’t apologize. Anyone could have slipped. Important thing is you caught yourself.”

“I put the baby in even more danger.”

“Don’t go there,” he warned. Not for himself, but her. He needed the confident Kate. The woman in charge. She couldn’t be second-guessing herself.

“I couldn’t bear it again,” she whispered.

He grabbed her hand and removed the gloves, lacing their fingers together. They’d sat on a mountain before, just like this, the day he asked her to marry him. He knew better than anyone you couldn’t go back. Life didn’t give do-overs.

“Nothing happened. It worked out.” Now wasn’t the time to apologize for not protecting her three years ago.

“Oh, good grief, Cord.” She took the last sip in the bottle and swallowed her last bite of energy bar. “Can we go now?”

It seemed the way to get Kate to be strong was to get her angry at him. But no matter what, she always wanted to talk. The shrink told him he needed to talk. He disagreed. He knew he’d failed her. Talking about that night wouldn’t change anything. Their baby would still be gone.

“Wait.”

“Why?” she asked. “Could you come over here? Just stand next to me. We don’t have to face each other to talk.”

She leaned against the rock face, clearly anxious that he’d been close to the edge. He moved closer, not wanting to cause her more hurt.

“You can’t climb as upset as you are.”

“I’m not upset, Cord. I mean, I didn’t want you to fall, of course. But I’m not upset. You’re right. Nothing happened. It’s great. So we leave. I wish I could have dried out my socks—”

“My shrink says I need to apologize.” He was glad he couldn’t see her face. The look of disappointment had to be there. Three years and he wasn’t fit for the field.

“You’re seeing a shrink?”

“Regulations. I have to be cleared for duty.”

“Oh,” she said on a deflated sigh. “Why does he think you need to apologize?”

“It’s complicated. I just...I just thought I should.”

“I don’t understand, Cord. What are you apologizing for, the divorce?”

“Why would I? I didn’t want it.” He crossed his arms, feeling as defensive as he sounded.

“You’re right. So what’s this apology your psychiatrist thinks you need to make?” She crossed her arms, waiting.

If she gave him an impatient sigh, he’d forget everything he’d thought about saying and just start climbing. He shoved his arms through the straps of the pack to secure it in place. Tilting his gaze, he saw where he’d grip the rocks for a quick escape. As soon as he forced the words out, he needed to get out of there fast. But his shrink had said no phones. For some reason there needed to be eye contact. His, mainly, something about it being more meaningful.

“Aw, hell.” He spun her around to look her in the eyes. He kept his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t try to avoid his touch or squirm from his grasp. “I’m sorry I killed our baby girl, Kate. I wasn’t there to protect you. I know you hate me for it. I also know you’ll never be able to forgive me. I can’t forgive myself. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was in the hospital and then it seemed...we...well, I guess I just never had the right words.”

* * *

B
ACK
INJURY
OR
NO
, her ex-husband Texas Ranger Cord McCrea turned on a dime, knew exactly where he would grab hold and leaped a foot up the rock wall. Kate stared at his jean-covered backside, then the bottoms of his shoes.

He’d thought she hated him because that monster Jorje Serna killed their daughter. She could never hate Cord. Never. And as soon as they stopped again, she’d set him straight.

It took her a bit longer to get started on this last section. She wasn’t about to leap to the jutting rocks Cord had grabbed. She was kind of stunned by his sudden urge to finally talk to her. Okay, it was more of a statement than a talk. She got that. But it was Cord! A man who’d never spoken to her about any of that horrible night. He’d listened in silence while she told him what Serna had done. She’d purged all her fear, all of her shame at being so afraid, all her regret at not doing more...and he’d said nothing. Never acknowledged any part of it. She hadn’t been certain he’d remained completely awake until his eyes opened, filled with a rage she’d never seen.

“Definitely a start,” she said, with him completely out of earshot.

Even with the clear skies, lots of sunlight and no moisture to blink from her eyes, she still moved cautiously. Each move was deliberate and secure. Cord wasn’t under her, but from the way he was shooting ahead he had confidence she was fine. At least she didn’t feel left behind. It actually reminded her she’d been climbing rocks like this her entire life.

They didn’t speak, and soon Cord disappeared over the edge, hopefully back to a trail. Her hands ached but she took time to secure each grip. A couple of minutes went by and she realized Cord hadn’t stuck his head over the edge to check on her.

“Cord?” she yelled. “Cord!”

Had he just left her? Nonsense. He’d never do that.

“Kate. Over here.” Cord was farther to her left than she’d been looking. But his voice was husky, like a loud whisper. As soon as they made eye contact, he put his finger across his lips.

She reached the ledge and just like the night before, Cord pulled her to the top. And each time, he indicated to remain silent. When he stood, she followed to where he’d dropped the backpack.

“Stay here,” he whispered. “No arguing.”

Taking off once again without informing her of the plan. What would she do if he ended up shot? She watched as he pulled the machine pistol to his chest and ducked behind a pinyon pine.

What had he seen?

Or heard. The distant whirling of a helicopter bounced around the canyons. Dread, adrenaline and fright all mixed together to put her stomach on edge. She stared in the direction of Cord then peeked over the rock she was backed against. All she saw was another rock.

Forget this. She wouldn’t sit on the sidelines and get an update. They were a team. This was her fight, too. She removed her rifle from where it had been strapped to the pack. While she checked for ammo, Cord returned.

“Well?”

“They’re searching, but it’s the same chopper.”

“How can you tell?”

He nodded toward the rifle and grinned. “Bullet holes.”

“So what do we do now?”

“I figure it’s going to take all day to cross the rest of this plateau and hit Highway 118. They still don’t know for certain that we headed this way. May assume we’ve made it to one of the phones southeast and start to move the drugs.”

“We have an advantage since we’ll hear the helicopter long before it can see us.”

“So we stay hidden from view and head toward the observatory.”

“There are places that are closer than that,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but we can’t see them. The white domes will give us a line of sight, easier to hit our mark and end up in the right place.”

“Easier for our eyes, but not our feet. And how much food did you happen to pack?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“It’s not you I’m thinking about.” She grabbed a water bottle from inside the pack, dripped some onto the cuts on her palms.

Watching Cord shift that machine pistol to his back was becoming too natural for her comfort. She really wanted this journey to be over and hiking all the way to McDonald Observatory—while it was their best option—just didn’t appeal to her. She wanted to feel safe, but not just on this trip. The longer she was with Cord, the more she wanted him to be involved with the baby. Things were just easier with someone around to help.

Having a child was a new experience. One of those “unknown” things out there that she had no knowledge about.