Tracker’s Sin (20 page)

For a moment she found nothing but air, but then the hard, cal used warmth of Tracker’s hand closed around hers. The lights faded. She took a breath.

Another flash of light. Another breath.

“Tracker.”

His hand squeezed hers. “Right here.”

Someone else’s hand awkwardly touched her shoulder. A scream stuck in her throat.

“Put your head between your knees.”

Shadow. It was Shadow touching her. And he wanted her to do what? She didn’t think she could do that even as a child.

“I think she’s supposed to be sitting first,” Tracker offered.

“Shit.”

She was hustled to a rock and sat down so hard she gasped. She would’ve complained except the smal pain broke the hold of the lights.

And she could breathe.

Until her head was shoved between her knees.

“Let me up.”

“In a minute,” Shadow said.

“Now.” Before she puked.

“I’l just do this while you’re recuperating,” Tracker said, tossing her skirt up over her knee. “Hey!”
This
was that wicked knife hacking

through her petticoats. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t climb in that skirt or those boots.”

“But I can’t be—” the knife sliced through her petticoats from crotch to hem “—naked.”

Shadow chuckled. “This you can trust me on. Tracker would never have you naked in front of anyone else. He’s a possessive son of a

bitch.”

That was little comfort as the air blew over her inner thighs.

Tracker cut the pieces of petticoat he’d removed into strips, and started wrapping them around her legs. By the time he got to her knees

she understood what he was doing. He was making pants for her. When he cut off a foot of fabric from the bottom of her skirt, though, she started having

concerns. “I hope you packed the other skirt.”

“I need this to wrap your feet and hands, otherwise they wil be cut to shreds.”

She was nearly naked in front of two men, with the sun burning skin that had never felt its touch before. “Wel , as long as I’m being

scandalous for a good reason.”

Tracker stopped tying a knot at the side of her knee and cupped her calf with his hand. Heat seeped through the material to her skin and

then to the nerve endings beneath. His dark eyes took on a smile that spread to the corners of his mouth. And even sitting there in the open, she felt a

trickle of arousal.

“No one wil look at you cockeyed.”

She tested the wraps. Surprisingly, though it felt weird, she could move her legs. “Says you.”

“Yes. Says me. Your husband. The man with a reputation for being touchy.”

His hand left her leg to cup the side of her face. His thumb settled against her lips. “And I intend to be very touchy about you.”

“Good.” She breathed the word against his thumb, leaning her cheek into his palm.

Tracker stroked her cheek with a finger. Taking his hat off with his other hand, he plopped it on her head. “You’re getting red.”

It immediately fel over her brow. “I can’t see a thing with this on.”

Tracker took the last strip of her petticoat and tied the hat around her head.

“I must look a sight,” she murmured.

He kissed her lips, the soft way he had last night. The way she knew meant “I love you.”

“I’m not concerned with how you look. I’m concerned with how you arrive at the top.”

“And how wil that be?”

“Alive.”

She tested the wrapping again. She could bend her knees, to a point. She held out her hand. Tucker took it immediately. She stood,

turned around and looked up. Al the way up.

“What’s wrong?” He was too intuitive.

She rubbed her palm down her thigh and tried not to think about how exposed she was. “I’m going up the canyon wal .”

“One step at a time.”

She was beginning to hate that phrase.

“You’re going to need your strength. It’s going to be a…” Shadow stopped, obviously reconsidering his choice of words. “Devil of a climb.

”

Ari was touched. It was the first time the man had moderated his language around her.

The canyon face was a dul brown, interrupted with splotches of green and gray rock. It seemed to go on forever. “How far do we have to

climb?”

Shadow pointed to a notch three-quarters of the way up. “There.”

They were wasting time and it was a long way up. She squeezed Tracker’s hand. “Would this be a bad time to mention I think I might be

afraid of heights?”

“You are?”

“I real y can’t remember, but I think it might be a good idea to become afraid. Trying to climb that is crazy.”

“It’s our way home, sweets. And I promised to bring you home.”

He took out a length of rope and tied it around his waist.

“What is that for?”

“I’m not taking any chances on you fal ing.”

She drew a breath and took a step in her new fancy “pants”. “Wel , then I guess there’s no sense putting it off.”

“That’s good, because we’ve got company coming.”

“Son of a bitch. There goes the plan.” Tracker grabbed his supplies off the ground before tying the other end of the rope around her waist.

“How many do you think, Shadow?”

“Sounds like only about ten horses. Half probably fol owed Zach. Better odds, at least.” But they’d al be heavily armed.

Comancheros.

They definitely needed to go. Without waiting for prompting from Tracker, Ari grabbed up Miguel’s cradleboard. When she tried to slide it

onto her shoulders, her arms could barely move. They were too stiff from the bite of the rope. The climb would be unbearable.

Shadow took it from her. “From this point, I’l carry him.”

She got a sick feeling in her stomach. “I can do it.”

“You can’t climb with the extra weight.” Shadow looked at Tracker. Tracker looked back. The men looked at her.

“What?” The sick feeling in her stomach was never wrong.

“We can’t be sure they won’t be shooting at you.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. “I thought they wanted me. That’s why they were holding me hostage.”

“You’ve got a son now. If you and your sister are dead, he inherits.”

“Money?”

Tracker’s expression was grim. “A lot of it.”

“I’m an heiress?”

“Yes.”

So that’s who she was. A woman with money. A woman used to the finer things. A woman used to having things done for her rather than

doing them herself. A woman who had had everything. She looked at her hands, with their split nails and cal uses. A woman who had lost it al . A woman

who stood to lose it al again. A cold, empty feeling spread through her gut.

“You keep him then,” she told Shadow as the feeling spread, numbing her fear, her hope, an inner pain she couldn’t remember. Grabbing

a ledge, she started climbing. Tracker moved around her, climbing with an ease she envied, taking the lead. Stones fel on her hands and hair.

“I’d rather go first,” she told him.

“Sorry, sweets.” The apology didn’t sound sincere. He handed her a knife.

She reached for it warily. “What’s this for?”

“First in line clears the path of snakes.”

She jerked her hand back. “I changed my mind.”

Tracker might be a handsome man, and he might be charming, but she wanted to smack the smile off his face. “I thought you would.”

A chuckle came from right behind her. She glared at Shadow. Damn him, he was smiling, too. “I want a gun.”

“No.”

“Don’t say no. I have my reasons.”

“You’re not clattering up that rock wal with a gun in your hand.”

“You’re carrying one.”

Tracker’s hand on her butt urged her forward. “But I’m not likely to shoot off my foot.”

“I’l bite,” Shadow interjected. “What’s your reason?”

She tentatively put her hand on the rock above; thinking of snakes made her think of spiders and scorpions. “I’m going to shoot the first

man who looks at my bloomers.”

Unbelievably, Tracker laughed. Overtaking her, he wrapped his hand under her braid, tilted her head back and kissed her lips. “There’l be

no worry about that.”

“Not if you give me a gun.”

“You don’t need a gun.” He gave her another kiss and a swat on her ass.

“Why not?”

“Because if there’s any shooting that needs to be done, I’l be doing it.” His hand skimmed down her body, grazing her butt as she

crawled upward. “And I’m the better shot.”

“Wel , I don’t want you looking up my bloomers, either.”

Shadow laughed. “Now there is something every man wants to hear.”

“Oh, shut up.” She liked it better when Shadow had been quiet.

“He’s only speaking the truth, sweets,” Tracker stated.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re both very contrary men?”

“I don’t think it’s ever been put quite that way before.”

“Then let me be the first.”

“Duly noted.” He looked back down the blind canyon. “Now, sweets…”

“What?”

“Get that cute ass moving.”

Looking down, she could see why. Riders fol owed the same path they had, weaving among the trees and rocks, distance making them

look like smal ants. Ants that were rapidly getting closer. The
Comancheros
were heavily armed. The flashes of light off their weapons were almost

blinding.

She started climbing as if the hounds of hel were after her, which they were. Snakes, scorpions and spiders weren’t anywhere near as

scary as
Comancheros.

Halfway up, the shooting started. Bul ets pinged off rocks, splattered into the dirt. She looked down. The
Comancheros
had dismounted

when the canyon became too narrow for their horses, and were nearing the base of the of the cliff wal on foot. Some of them started to climb.

Tracker came up beside her, while Shadow lagged behind. Shielding her, she understood, putting their bodies between the bul ets and

her son. Just as they reached the ledge that Shadow had shown her, he slid his arms out of the cradleboard and shoved it at her. “Take him.”

He took a position behind a rock, pul ed his rifle off his back and took aim. There was a gunshot, then a scream. When she looked down

again, the
Comancheros
were diving for cover.

Their shouts echoed up the canyon, echoed in her blood. Horrible. Threatening. Familiar. The bright light splintered behind her eyes. So

familiar. The shouts were so familiar. Tracker grabbed her arm and hauled her up against him.

“Not now,” he growled. “Move!”

Yes. She needed to move. But she couldn’t. Her fingers were locked on the stones and her feet stuck in the sand on the ledge on which

they stood.

Tracker dragged her behind the rocks and spun her around. His hand anchored at the base of her braid. His mouth slammed down on

hers. Hard. Hot. Pain fol owed by tenderness, so much tenderness. She anchored herself in the softness of the emotion, letting the lights beat harmlessly

in the background.

“Not now,” he growled against her lips. “You can’t afford to fal apart now.” Tracker kissed her again, his big body sheltering her and

Miguel. “You need to climb, for yourself, for your son.”

For them. “One step at a time,” she gasped.

“Exactly.” His gaze narrowed on her face. He looked every inch the warrior, his expression hard, the scar on his cheek white with tension.

A man not to be trifled with. A man to be believed in. “Don’t look down. No matter what you hear, just keep looking up.”

“And keep climbing.”

“You’ve got it. It’s your job to get Miguel out of here.”

She touched her fingers to Tracker’s hair, holding it in her fist as Miguel did, wishing she had his blind faith that everything was going to

be al right.

“And yours is to come back to me.”

“Mine is to keep you alive.”

She shook her head, knowing there was no time left. She had to leave. “You owe me a night in your bed.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.” She pressed her fingertips against his lips. Her fingers were shaking. She didn’t care. This couldn’t be the last time she saw

him. It couldn’t. “Promise me you’l make it.”

“Ari…”

She pressed harder, cutting off the truth he always gave her. “A ful night. You and me together in a bed with nothing but love between us.

Promise me that.”

For a second, he didn’t move or say anything. For a second she couldn’t breathe. Then he pressed a kiss against her fingertips.

“Deal.”

It wasn’t a promise, but she’d take it.

“Now, get Miguel out of here.”

Clever of him to put it like that. For herself, she might not try so hard, but for Miguel? For Miguel she’d do anything. She scaled the canyon

wal as fast as she could, heading toward the notch Shadow had pointed out, taking chances on footholds and handholds, scrambling to keep her balance

on the loose rock and narrow ledges. Tracker was right behind her al the way, his big body shielding her from the few bul ets sporadical y hitting around

them, as Shadow laid down intense cover fire.

Her foot slipped. Her knee slammed into a rock. Pain shot through her leg. Against Tracker’s warning, she looked down. Oh my God, they

were coming up fast. More bul ets pinged off the rocks around them. Tracker grabbed her shoulder and shoved her to the right, into a channel carved

between the rocks. It offered protection.

A rapid rattle started immediately. She froze. A knife blade flashed over her head. Blood splattered her face. A snake’s head dropped

beside her. The rattle continued as Tracker grabbed the snake’s body and tossed it down.

“Climb.”

Nodding, she swal owed her gorge and did as she was told. As fast as she could. Keeping her gaze on that notch in the canyon wal that

signified safety. As fast as she climbed, she wasn’t as fast as the men behind. Between Miguel’s screams, she could hear their shouts getting louder. The