White lies

Lucas watched her. Her pale breasts had gleamed in the fault light coming through the window, and in spite of his anger, his sense of betrayal and the need for haste, he wanted to go to her and pull her against him. Only a few hours before he had held her breasts in his hands and pushed them up to his avid mouth. He had made love to her until the building anticipation had bordered on agony, and they had writhed together on that bed. She had told him she loved him, over and over, and now she turned her back as if she had to hide her body from him.

It hit him hard, shook him. There was more to it than she’d told him, more than the mercenary motives he’d thrown at her. He needed to know what it was, but he didn’t have time. Damn it. If only she didn’t look so beaten and remote, as if she had withdrawn inside herself. He had to fight the urge to take her in his arms and kiss that look away. Hell, what did it matter why she had done it? Maybe money had been the reason at first, but he was damned certain it wasn’t the reason now, or at least not all of it. Even if it had been, he thought ruthlessly, he wouldn’t let her go. He’d get this settled between them as soon as he’d taken care of Piggot, but right now the most important thing was to make certain Jay was safe.

"Hurry," he urged roughly.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and jerked her boots off, quickly put on a pair of thick socks and put the boots on again. Then she got her purse and shear- ling jacket and said, "I’m ready."

He didn’t see the need for her to get anything else, as they would come back to the cabin and pack after he’d taken care of Piggot, and he was pleased that she didn’t insist on wasting time. Jay was a good partner, even though she was out of her depth.

He had to find a safe place to leave her. He doubted that Black Bull, the closest town, had a motel, but he didn’t have the time to go any farther than that. He drove the Jeep at breakneck speed across the meadow, especially considering that he didn’t dare risk turning on the headlights. But he had taken the possibility that he might have to do this into consideration and had walked the meadow over and over, mentally tracing the route he would take, estimating his fastest safe speed, noting all the rocks and ruts in his path. He edged so close to the tree line that branches scraped the side of the Jeep.

"I can’t see," Jay said, her voice strained.

"I can." He couldn’t see much, but it was enough. He had good night vision.

She held on to the door as they jolted across a hump, rattling her teeth. He’d have to turn on the headlights when they went down the mountainside, she thought; the track was only wide enough for the Jeep, with a steep drop on one side and vertical mountain on the other. Even in daylight she hardly dared to breathe until they had safely negotiated it. But when they made the turn that took them onto the track, he kept both hands on the wheel. The darkness in front of them was absolute.

Jay closed her eyes. Her own heartbeat was thundering in her ears so loudly that she couldn’t hear anything else. There was nothing she could do. He had decided not to turn on the lights, to risk the drive in the dark, and nothing she could say would change his mind. His arrogant confidence in his own ability was both maddening and awesome; she would rather have walked down the mountain in ten feet of snow than risked this hair-raising drive, but he had simply decided to do it, and now he was.

She couldn’t estimate how long the drive took. It seemed like hours, and finally her nerves couldn’t bear the tension, and numbness settled in. She even opened her eyes. It didn’t matter. If they went over the side, they would go whether her eyes were open or closed.

But then they were down and bumping across the second meadow. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes, swearing viciously. Jay saw what he saw: a set of headlights playing along the edge of the meadow in front of them. They were still safely out of range of the light, but she knew as well as he did what it meant. Piggot’s men were drawing close, closing the net to wait for Piggot’s arrival.

Lucas put the Jeep in reverse and backed the way he had come, keeping the Jeep at the tree line. When he reached the rear edge of the meadow he turned, taking the Jeep up the north edge. They were off the track now, and the snow tires dug in deep, spewing snow back behind them.

"Are we going around this way?"

"No. We won’t be able to make it. The snow’s too deep." He pulled the Jeep under some trees and got out. "Stay here," he ordered, and disappeared back toward the track.

Jay swiveled in her seat, straining her eyes to see what he was doing. She could barely make out his form, black against the snow; an instant later he was out of sight.

He was back in less than two minutes. He vaulted into the Jeep and slammed the door, then rolled the window down. "Listen," he hissed.

"What did you do?"

"I wiped out our tracks. There was only one vehicle. If it goes past us, we’ll get back on the track and make it to the highway yet."

They listened. The sound of the other motor came plainly through the night air. The vehicle was moving slowly, the engine toiling in low gear as it cautiously made its way up the slick, snowy, unfamiliar track. The headlights stabbed the darkness, coming almost straight toward them.

"Don’t worry," Lucas breathed. "They can’t see us from the track. If they just don’t notice where we turned and if they keep on going, we’ll be okay."

Two ifs. Two big ifs. Jay’s nails were digging into her palms. The headlights were close enough that their reflected light illuminated the interior of the Jeep, and for the first time she noticed that Lucas had on his thick shearling jacket, but no shirt. The odd detail struck her, and she wondered if she might be edging toward hysteria.