tried to move her hands. Her fingers wouldn’t work. They felt cold and numb. “M-my shoulders and arms hurt.”
“That’s from being tied in that position for so long,” he told her, running his hand across her shoulders. He could feel Madison trembling. And to her credit, she was trying to keep it together. Yeah, she was a Texas gal, through and through.
“They hit me,” she whispered, trying to look up at him through her hair. Lifting her hand, she tried unsuccessfully to push the hair out of her eyes. She saw his bearded face, his dark green eyes narrowed intently upon her. He was dressed in cammies, a boonie hat on his head. His mouth was thinned. Travis Cooper. He’d rescued her. She was safe, alive.
“Anything else?” he asked, trying to steel himself. Her eyes grew cloudy and she quivered in his arms.
“N-no.... Why did they do this?” She searched his hard, weathered face.
“Kidnapping is profitable,” he said. Damn, but she was beautiful. Her eyes reminded him of the dawn sky, a deep cobalt blue. Her pupils were large and black, a thin black crescent curved around the outside of her iris, emphasizing them even more. He gently pushed some of her hair away from her face to hold her gaze. “Look, I need to get you back on a horse. We need to hightail it out of here. I’ve got a cave in mind where we can hide and get out from under the Taliban’s gunsights.” He looked down at her. She reminded him of a disheveled, broken doll. “Can you do that?”
“Y-yes, I can.”
“Good,” he grunted, unwinding and standing. “Stay here. I need to get my ruck and my rifle. I’ll be right back.”
The horses had huddled around them. Travis took off at a fast trot across the flat land toward the scree slope. He knew horses were herd animals. They were used to humans and hopefully would remain with Madison while he picked up his gear. As he ran, he called back to Camp Bravo, giving them information on the package and her present medical condition.
“You’ve got forty Taliban on horseback three miles north of you, heading your direction.”
Yeah, well, Travis had expected the Win Mag would wake up every Taliban in the area. “Roger that.” He filled the master chief in on his escape plan and gave him their GPS position. Travis located his ruck, strapped his Win Mag to the outside of it and pulled the ruck over his shoulders, then swiftly turned and headed down the scree.
In the distance he could see Madison was sitting, her head bowed, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. God, he felt sorry for her and lengthened his stride, urgency pushing him. Three miles could be covered damn quick by men on horseback.
Madison looked up, watching the Navy man jogging toward her. He was tall, probably at least six feet. And lean, like a starved wolf. It was his oval face, those wide-set green eyes of his and that black beard that made him look hard. He’d just saved her life. Emotions welled up in her. She watched as he slowed to a walk, picked up the reins of one horse and then walked over to the dead soldiers.
What was he doing? She frowned, watching him quickly take off vests, cloaks and trousers from two of them. In no time, he had the clothing strapped on to the back of the saddle. Turning, he walked over to her.
“How are you doing?” he asked, kneeling down, searching her dirty, sweaty face.
“O-okay....” Her heart took off when he gave her a lazy smile. His entire face changed and he almost became handsome.
“Now, you wouldn’t lie to me, would you, darlin’?” He could tell she was rallying beneath his softly spoken endearment. Her mouth...her mouth was meant to be kissed. Full lips, with the corners of her mouth curving naturally upward. Groaning to himself, Travis knew he couldn’t go there.
“I’m okay,” she managed. “I know I look a sight, but—”
“You look beautiful,” he assured her huskily. “I’m going to help you stand. We need to get going.”
He lifted her up by her waist as if she weighed nothing. Madison was surprised because he was lean, not heavily muscled or bulky. When she got to her feet, she grabbed for his upper arms. And then she grunted with pain, her hands falling lifelessly to her sides. To lift her hands above her breasts brought nothing but red-hot pain and burning. She bit back a cry.
“It’s okay,” he rasped, slipping her beneath his arm, holding her close so she had something to lean on. “I’m putting you on this horse. Ready?”
No, she wasn’t ready. Her arms were as useless as if they were stuffed with sawdust, her fingers unable to curve or hold on to anything. Madison felt the tension, knew they were still in danger. “Yes...” she whispered.
He nodded, the look in his eyes giving her strength. Her legs did work and she was able to lift one up and over the saddle. Once she was on the horse, he held the reins up to her.
“I—I can’t hold on to them,” she whispered, distraught. “I’m sorry....”
“No problem,” Travis murmured, patting her thigh. “Just sit tight for a moment.”
Madison watched him walk over to another horse, throw the reins over its head and mount up. This man knew his horses and certainly knew how to ride. He rode back and brought the reins over her horse’s head to hold in his long, large-knuckled fingers.
“You ride?” Travis asked. He knew she did, but didn’t know if she could hold on right now, given what she’d already been through.
“I’ll hang on,” Madison promised grimly, forcing her dead fingers into the horse’s thick mane. He gave her a grin for the first time, a boyish look coming to his features. It filled her with hope.
“Good enough,” Travis murmured, turning the horse around. “We’re going to be moving fast. Got some bad guys coming our way. If you’re having trouble hanging on, yell. I’ll stop and we’ll figure out another plan of action.” He pinned her with his gaze. Travis could tell she was in shock, her blue eyes cloudy, her features stressed and confused.
“Let’s go,” she managed, her voice hoarse. “I’ll hang on.”
Texas steel. Travis nodded. He saw the determination in her eyes, in the set of that luscious mouth, now thinned with purpose. He clapped his heels to his horse. The animal grunted and leaped forward into a canter. The wind whipped by them as Travis followed a slope that gently curved to the west. His horse was tired and he didn’t want to push too hard. Looking over his shoulder, he confirmed that Madison was riding all right. That was a relief. He didn’t want to have to carry her on his horse. That would slow them down way too much.
* * *
Madison thanked God for her steel thighs gripping the horse’s barrel as they galloped in and around mountain slopes. Her hands were nerveless. Her shoulders ached like fire. But from the waist down, she was just fine, moving in sync with her cantering horse. The wind felt good against her face, drying the sweat, the air pure and sweet without that horrible hood over her head.
She watched Travis ride, his body in rhythm with the movement of the horse. Who was he? Navy in the desert? It didn’t make sense. She had so many questions to ask him. Every once in a while, he’d look over his broad shoulder, checking on her to make sure she was all right. Madison felt his protection even though it wasn’t anything she could see with
