something hot into her, or she could end up in big trouble.
Rooney appeared through the trees, shaking water from his thick coat, his ears pricked. Finn’s expression eased a little. The dog was totally pleased with himself, and it almost looked as if he were grinning. The weight in his arms pulled on his shoulder, and Finn focused on his passenger. Shifting her weight so she was more balanced in the saddle, Finn tucked the blanket tighter around her. Now all he had to do was get her back to the line shack.
They had just rounded the bend in the trail when there was a sound of something moving through the bush, then a few seconds later Trouper appeared on the trail behind them. Finn experienced another flicker of humor. It was as if the damned horse knew exactly where they were headed.
The heavy canopy of trees provided some shelter from the falling snow, and now distanced from the sound of the river, it was as if the whole world was enveloped in a peculiar stillness.
Gus stumbled on some loose shale, the sharp movement jarring his passenger to consciousness. She began to struggle weakly, and it dawned on Finn that the snug folds of the blanket wouldn’t feel a whole lot different from the black hood. Telling Gus to whoa, Finn spoke, his voice calm and quiet. “Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Everything is okay.” Shifting his hold, he peeled the blanket away, his insides giving a funny twist when she opened her eyes and stared at him, confusion transfixing her. Needing to reassure her, he managed a lopsided smile. “How are you doing in there?”
She stared at him a second, then as if realizing who he was, she closed her eyes. Then she swallowed hard and looked up at him, her eyes still glazed, her pupils dilated. “I’m fine. But I’m really thirsty,” she whispered.
He gave her another half smile. “Tell you what. There’s a place just up ahead that’s really sheltered. We’ll pull up there, and I’ll build a fire, then make you something hot to drink.”
Her eyes widened and she tried to struggle free, panic claiming her. “No!” she muttered, trying to break loose. “No.”
Gus started to toss his head and sidestep, and Finn gave him a sharp command, aware that if she really started to fight him, they could both end up on the ground. And right now, that was the last place he wanted to be. Letting go of the reins, he locked his arms around her, holding her immobile. “Easy,” he said, his voice husky. “Easy. It’s okay.”
She gripped his arm and hauled in a deep, uneven breath, then opened her eyes again. Staring at him, her gaze dark with fear, she tried to sit up, the black wool hat accentuating her fair skin. “No.” She swallowed and abruptly closed her eyes again, as if suddenly very dizzy. Her face noticeably paler, she swallowed again and looked up at him. “No. We can’t. If we—if we stop—” She forced in another deep breath and spoke again, her voice shaking. “If we stop, they’ll find us.”
Snow slid from one of the heavy spruce boughs overhanging the trail, plopping on the ground in front of them, and Gus tossed his head, his bridle jingling.
His expression very thoughtful, Finn stared down at the woman, studying her pale face, considering the pros and cons. Common sense told him to stop, caution warned him to move on. The hat covered her head down to her ears, but her thick, red hair hung past her shoulders, its copper color bright against the dull gray of the blanket. His expression sober, Finn again considered his charge. Then he spoke, his voice quiet. “We still have a good two-hour ride to shelter. And I think it would be a good idea if I got something hot into you.”
Her movements very sluggish and her eyes shut, she twisted her head. “No. Please,” she beseeched. “If they find you—if they find you with me—they’ll kill you too.”
His expression fixed, Finn studied her, processing what she had said. He didn’t like the sound of that—not one bit. And if that really was the case, he needed to get her as far away as possible from that small meadow. He had a spare mackinaw and a survival blanket packed in the gear on the packhorse, and he debated about getting them. Then he decided against it. With her all wrapped around him, she was plenty warm enough. And she had stopped shivering. Besides, she was so far out of it, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get her back on the horse if she slid off.
Turning her head so her face was against his neck, she let go a soft sigh and went slack again. Affected by that small show of trust, Finn carefully tucked the blanket around her, then made his decision. He never dismissed anyone’s fear, and hers was very real. But the fact that she didn’t seem to be suffering any serious effects from exposure was the deciding factor. And if they moved out now, they would be at the line shack before darkness settled in.
Satisfied that she was well enough insulated to contain her own body heat, he adjusted his position on the back of the horse. Hoping that Gus was up to carrying double through the rough terrain ahead of them, he picked up the reins and urged his mount forward. Now that she had voiced her fear, there were a dozen questions he wanted answers to. But those questions would have to wait. If he was going to get from Point A to Point B in this kind of country, while trying to hold on to a woman who was half out of it, he’d need to have his wits about him. With the snow coming down the way it was, making it even more treacherous underfoot, he couldn’t afford to let his mind wander for even a moment, or they could both end up dead.
And he wasn’t about to let that happen.
Chapter 2
It took just a little over three hours to get from Point A to Point B. A heavy twilight had settled in by the time Finn reached the narrow, twisting trail leading up to the cabin. The snow had stopped an hour earlier, and it had turned very still, with just a breath of air moving through the dense spruce and pine. It was so still that the branches remained heavily laden, the caps of snow still clinging to even the most fragile branches. The smell of pine hung in the cold, still air, and even in the fading light, Finn could see the tiny prints of blue jays in the unspoiled blanket of snow.
The snow was so thick, so undisturbed, it was as if a white cover had been draped over the entire landscape, the whiteness now tinged with the purple and blue shadows of the encroaching night. It was going to be one of those pitch-black nights, where the heavy cloud cover blocked out even a trace of starlight, and that suited Finn just fine. That kind of darkness would serve them well.
He wasn’t too sure what was really going on with the woman sagging heavily in his arms. After periodically coming to, then trying to fight her way out of the constraints of the blankets, she had finally gone quiet. And thank God for that. A couple of times she had put up such a struggle that he’d nearly lost her, and he was feeling the strain in his entire body.
But she had barely moved in the past hour, and the only thing that assured Finn she was still alive was the rise and fall of her chest. He couldn’t tell if she’d just given in to whatever was in her system, or if she was genuinely asleep. But one thing for sure was that she was getting damned heavy. His left arm, the one that was bearing most of her weight, felt as if it was being slowly extracted from the socket, and his hand had been numb for at least forty minutes. And on top of all that, he was beginning to feel the cold. He had maybe a hundred yards to go—that was all.
As he guided Gus through the shallow stream adjacent to the cabin, he caught something on the air—something faint—something almost indistinguishable. Reining his mount to a full stop, he went still and turned his head, his expression intent as he listened. His tracker’s senses finely tuned, he was finally able to extract a distant sound from the chilled silence. He shifted his head slightly, his expression tightening. A small plane—he narrowed his eyes and stopped breathing, listening intently—no, there were two, the sound far-off and barely discernible. But there were definitely two distinct sounds.
