Читать книгу Just A Little Bit Dangerous - Linda Castillo - Страница 11

Jake couldn’t help but worry that he’d overlooked the cabin. That he’d passed right by it and hadn’t seen it because of the poor visibility. Or because he was cold to his bones and shivering uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but think he was leading this woman directly to nowhere—or to a slow and excruciating death.

He couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head as they rode into the driving snow. They’d been traveling at an agonizingly slow speed for two hours. He was wet and tired and growing increasingly uneasy about the situation. He could only imagine how his prisoner must be feeling. She wasn’t dressed for heavy weather. She hadn’t eaten or rested. Her hands were cuffed, to boot. Yet she hadn’t complained. Either she was one tough cookie—or more stubborn than anyone he’d ever met.

If his memory served him, they should have passed the old hunting cabin an hour ago. His compass told him they were headed in the right direction. If so, then where the hell was it? Alarm quivered in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t one to panic—he’d been in worse predicaments in these mountains and survived. Only this time he wasn’t alone. His unwilling traveling companion might be an escaped convict, but her safety was his responsibility. Jake took that responsibility to heart. With weather conditions worsening by the minute—and nightfall closing in fast—he knew it had become imperative for them to find shelter very soon or else find themselves facing a life-or-death situation.

Wind stung his eyes as Brandywine took him through snow deep enough to scrape the underside of her belly, deeper where the wind had whipped it into drifts. His face was wet and ached with cold. His hands were beyond numb.

“You okay?” he shouted over the roar of wind.

“You mean aside from the fact that I’m wet and cold and hungry beyond belief and my life is wrecked? Hey, Cowboy, I’m just peachy over here. Don’t worry about me. I mean, who needs their fingers and toes when they’re going to be spending the rest of their life in prison?”

Even though she was less than three feet away, he could barely make out her silhouette through the driving snow. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Hang tight, okay?”

“I’ve been hanging on for a year, now. A few more minutes aren’t going to make much difference.”

An instant later Brandywine stumbled. Jake looked down, squinting through the snow, realized she’d stumbled over the lowest rail of a broken-down fence. Pulling up on the reins, he looked ahead. Relief trickled through him when the weathered exterior of the cabin loomed into view.

Sliding off the horse, he led her to the east side of the cabin where a shallow lean-to blocked the wind and snow. Jake walked over to Rebel Yell and looked up at his charge. She gazed back at him, shivering, her cheeks bright pink within the pale oval of her face. Wisps of wet hair curled wildly around the hood of the duster.

“Nice p-place,” she said. “C-come here often?”

He would have bought the tough-guy act if her teeth hadn’t been chattering. An Emergency Medical Technician, Jake knew it wouldn’t take long for hypothermia to set in under these kinds of conditions. He probably wasn’t too far from that point himself. “Sit tight,” he said. Taking Rebel Yell’s lead, he tied the mule to the manger, then turned to the woman. “Lift your right leg over her neck and slide down,” he said.

Holding her cuffed hands in front of her, she did as she was told. It would have worked if her legs hadn’t given out the instant they touched the ground. If Jake hadn’t been there to catch her, she would have fallen. But he was there, holding her close—way too close—and far too aware of how good she felt in his arms.

Startled violet eyes met his, a kaleidoscope of emotions scrolling in their depths. Jake saw awareness and caution coupled with something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He breathed in, got a lungful of her scent, felt it knock him upside the head like a fence post. She smelled earthy and elemental, a heady mix of sweet mountain rain and woman that stirred him despite the cold. He felt the hard thump of a pulse, but he wasn’t sure if it was his or hers. Just that it was racing like the wind, and he was far too wise to ask himself why.

“Careful, I’ve got you,” he said.

“I’m c-cold.” She winced. “M-my feet are numb.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it’s seriously cold out here.” Grimacing, she shoved a handful of hair from her eyes. “Like you care, anyway.”

“It’s my responsibility to get you back to Buena Vista safe and sound.”

Her humorless laugh shouldn’t have irked him, but it did. “More like dead or alive.”

“Don’t overdramatize. It’s annoying.”

“I’m not overdramatizing. I’m simply being realistic.”

Jake knew he should step away. He should have stepped away the instant he’d felt the brush of her body against his. But she was curvy and soft against him, and her scent was doing a number on his judgment. Not to mention another part of his anatomy that seemed determined to betray him.

“Don’t sweat it, Cowboy Cop. I know you’re just doing your job. I’m not taking any of this personally.”

When he looked into her eyes, he could tell she really meant what she was saying. “I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said.

“Yeah, you just want to get me back to Buena Vista in one piece so I can spend the rest of my life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit. That’s real compassionate. But I guess a girl in my position has got to appreciate compassion when she can, you know?”

Jake sighed. “I’m not going to get into this with you now.” Releasing her, he stepped back. “I’ve got to get these animals fed and bedded down for the night.”

He turned toward Brandywine, opened the saddlebag and pulled out a halter, lead and a bag of grain. Slipping the bridle off the horse’s head, he replaced it with the halter and tied her to the manger. Scooping snow from the manger, he divided the bag of grain between the two animals. As they fed, he turned to his charge. “Give me your hands.”

“Don’t tell me you trust me enough to take off these cuffs.”

“Trust doesn’t enter into the picture here, Blondie. This is a dangerous storm, and I could use your help.”

“Imagine that. A lawman needing my help.”

Frowning, Jake fished the key from his belt, unlocked the cuffs, then stuffed them into the compartment. Without speaking, he turned back to the animals, unfastened the two bedrolls from the saddles and offered them to his prisoner. “Would you hold these for a minute while I untack?”

She nodded. “Maybe you should deputize me or something.”

“I don’t think so.” He set the bedrolls in her arms, then went about untacking the animals. A few minutes later, a saddle horn in each hand, he turned toward the cabin. “Let’s see if this place has a roof,” he said.

“Cowboy, I’m going to be really disappointed if it doesn’t.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“I guess it would be unreasonable for me to hope for hot water.”

“Best case scenario is a fire—if there’s dry wood.”

“Room service?”

“I’ve got some instant meals, jerky and a few cookies.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Jeez, you really know how to crush a girl’s dreams.”

Jake moved past her and reached for the knob. The door squeaked when he pushed it open. The pungent odors of old wood and dust greeted him. “No snow on the floor,” he said. “That’s a good sign.”

He stepped into the dimly lit interior, his boots thudding dully against the plank floor. It had been a year since he’d been inside the one-room cabin, and it was every bit as dilapidated as he remembered. He’d gone camping with Tony Colorosa and Pete Scully, and they’d run into rain. Jake had remembered the cabin from a search and rescue operation years before, and they’d ended up spending the night.

“It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’ll do,” he said.

“We’ll have to call housekeeping. There’s a pane missing from the window and it’s snowing in the kitchen.”

Jake looked up to see his charge stroll into the kitchen area. She’d lowered the hood of the duster he’d given her and handfuls of brown-and-blond-streaked hair curled around her shoulders. He tried not to notice that her teeth were chattering, or the occasional shiver that racked her body. Most of all he tried not to notice that she looked more like somebody’s camping partner than she did a convict on the run.

Tearing his gaze from her—and thoughts that were anything but appropriate at a time like this—he looked toward the window where snow blasted in through a broken pane. Two inches of the stuff covered the rough-hewn countertop. “I’ll patch that.”

“Is there a bathroom?”

Jake stared at her, suspicion flaring hot in his gut. “There’s an outhouse just off the back porch.”

When she started toward the back door, he reached out and took her arm. “I’ll go with you.”

“What? You think I’m going to run out into a blizzard?”

“After the stunt with the radio, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I may be desperate, but I’m not stupid.”

“They’re one and the same up here, Blondie. You do something desperate in this weather and it might just kill you.”

“That would just set the world on its ear, wouldn’t it?”

Jake cut her a look. He didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t appear unbalanced or unduly agitated, but he remembered clearly the D.O.C. officer mentioning that she had a history of mental illness. If she decided to get crazy on him and take off, they could both freeze to death and not be found until spring. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Suit yourself.” Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she stalked over to the rear door and yanked it open. A blast of frigid air sent her back a step.

The outhouse was a doorless, open-air facility that left her gaping for a full thirty seconds before Jake leaned down and told her he would turn his back while she took care of business. She wouldn’t even look at him as she stepped through the door and brushed the snow off the seat. Then at her nod, he turned away and tried not to think about how long this storm might last. While she used the facility, Jake spotted the remains of what had once been a woodpile. The wood underneath was dry, but there wasn’t much. Maybe enough for two days. Leaving his post, he walked over to the pile and gathered up an armload of wood.

When he straightened, he found her a few feet away, gathering kindling. Surprise and a grudging admiration rippled through him. Okay, so Miss Convict was a trooper. That shouldn’t have appealed to him, but it did. He knew what people were like when they were scared. He’d seen his share of panic, even more of tears. This woman could have been the poster girl for calm.

As much as he wanted to deny it, Jake realized he was going to have to be very, very careful in the coming hours. She was getting to him despite his resolve to keep her at a safe distance. And for the first time since Elaine had walked out on him more than two years earlier, he wasn’t sure he trusted his own good judgment to keep him on the straight and narrow.

Rather than shout over the wind, he made eye contact with her and pointed toward the door. She nodded, and he followed her. Once inside, he set the wood in front of the fireplace. “I’ll build a fire, then I’ve got to get out of these wet pants. Why don’t you see if you can find something suitable to cover that broken pane with?”

“I was just going to suggest that.” She started toward the kitchen area where a few pieces of weathered plywood leaned against the sink.

Jake watched her out of the corner of his eye as he stacked the wood and kindling in the hearth. She was still shivering, but he knew a blazing fire would take the damp chill out of the room. It wouldn’t be warm by any means, but at least they wouldn’t die of hypothermia. For tonight, he figured that was the best they could hope for.

She searched the counter, tossing aside a couple of scrap pieces of wood that were either too large or too small to fit over the broken pane. Next, she looked under the sink.

He jumped a foot in the air when she screamed and scrambled back.

“What the hell?” Certain she’d uncovered a nest of rattlesnakes, he sprinted over to her, grabbed her arm and tugged her away from the threat. Her laugh stopped him cold. He glanced past her in time to see a chipmunk scurry into a fist-size hole leading to the crawl space beneath the cabin.

Another laugh erupted. “Didn’t mean to scare you, Cowboy, but I’m not the camping type.”

“I’ve noticed.” His annoyance died a quick death the instant he realized how close she was. Awareness zinged between them like a stray bullet. In the span of a heartbeat, the situation went from bad to worse. A situation where he was no longer the cool-headed cop in control, but a man with a man’s needs—and a man’s weaknesses. She was no longer merely his charge, but a woman with violet eyes and soft flesh and secrets that beckoned a man to peel away the layers of her mystery one by one. He saw the realization in her eyes, heard it in the shuddering breath she let out, felt it in the leap of her pulse as it hammered beneath his fingers where he’d grasped her wrist.

He’d been around the block enough times to know this was a very bad idea. But he didn’t step away. “You okay?” he asked.

“It was only a chipmunk,” she said after a moment.

“I saw that.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It was only a mild heart attack. I’ll survive.”

She choked out a laugh. “You made a joke.”

“I guess I did.”

“It didn’t hurt too bad, did it?” Amusement sparked in her eyes, but he clearly saw that she was shaken. He wondered if it was from the scare that chipmunk had given her, or because he was close enough to see the melted snow clinging to her eyelashes. The only question that remained was just how far he was going to let this go before he put a stop to it.

Her face was only a few short inches from his. So close he could feel the heat coming off her. See the endless violet of her eyes, searching his, seeking something elusive, asking a question he had absolutely no desire to answer. Not when the blood was a dull roar in his head and the feel of her was making his heart pound. Not when the scent of her was so keen he could practically taste her flesh.

Jake knew he should pull away, knew he should heed the alarm blaring in the back of his mind, but he didn’t.

“Your pupils are dilated,” she whispered.

“So are yours.” His voice creaked like rusty barbed wire.

“You know what that means….”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“It means you’re aroused.”

“Really?” He didn’t need her to tell him that. Jake felt it loud and clear, like a bomb going off right on top of him. But he also heard the warning bell clanging and the voice of reason screaming for him to stop what he knew would happen next.

She inched closer. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you wanted to kiss me.”

“Yeah, but you know better, don’t you?”

“Do I?” She stood on her tiptoes, leaned toward him until her mouth was less than an inch from his. “I’ll bet you’re good at it.”

The control cost him, but Jake didn’t move. Sweat broke out on his back. He heard the echo of his pulse in his ears, the rush of blood through his veins. She closed her eyes, leaned closer.

An instant before contact, Jake stepped back. He wasn’t sure who he was angrier with, himself for getting into the situation, or her for compromising herself. But the anger stopped the insanity with an audible snap.

Her eyes widened when he grasped her biceps, whirled her around and shoved her into a rickety chair. “Let’s get something straight right now, Blondie.”

She stared at him, her breaths coming short and fast. “I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” he snapped. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you have any self-respect? Don’t you have any pride?”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about self-respect.”

“You need it, sweetheart.”

The sudden rush of tears to her eyes took his anger down a notch, filled the space left in its wake with another emotion he didn’t want to deal with. Not when he could still smell her sweet essence, feel the pang of heat in his groin.

“You don’t know me,” she said. “You don’t know what I’ve been through in the last year—”

“I know what I see. I see a young woman about to give her body away because she thinks she might get something in return.”

She managed to look appalled. “I wasn’t going to—”

“The hell you weren’t. I was reading your signals loud and clear, sister.” Gritting his teeth against another jolt of anger—this time aimed at himself—Jake turned away and paced to the other side of the room. Damn, that had been close.

“I wouldn’t have done…that,” she said after a moment.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jake laughed humorlessly. “Look, if we’re going to be stuck together, I’ve got one rule.”

She leaned back in the chair, blinking back what he hoped to God weren’t tears. “I’m not very good at rules.”

“All I want is for you to be straight with me,” he said. “That means no games. No lying. No tricks. If you can’t tell the truth, then don’t say anything. Do you think you can abide by that?”

She pressed her lips together. “I wasn’t going to…you know, sleep with you.”

“If you weren’t going to sleep with me, just what the hell did you have in mind?”

“Well…I thought maybe…I thought maybe I could distract you.”

“Distract me?” Jake gritted his teeth. “Some other bozo in my position might have taken you up on your offer. Some unscrupulous cop might have wanted more than you were willing to give. Then where would you be?”

“I’d still be in the same predicament I’m in now.”

“Yeah? And what’s that? Paying your debt to society?”

“Going back to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“You’re going to have to come up with something a little more original than that because I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve heard every lie in the book.”

“You want original?” She stood abruptly, trembling and pale, tears shimmering on ashen skin. “The night before I escaped, somebody tried to kill me. I had two choices. Leave or die. So I left. Is that original enough for you?”