Smoky Mountain Setup (7 page)

“Why don’t you take this, go in there and find out?” She handed him a flashlight from her backpack and waved her hand toward the cave entrance.

“Gee, thanks.” He took the flashlight and took a step inside, swinging the light in a slow arc to get his bearings.

The cave was larger than he’d expected, a cavern about twenty feet wide with a high ceiling. The back of the cave disappeared into darkness, suggesting there might be a tunnel that went even farther into the mountainside.

“Any bears?” Olivia’s voice was right in his ear, giving him a start. He hadn’t even heard her approach.

“If there are, they’re hiding.” He shone the flashlight in her face, making her squint.

“Give me that.” She took the flashlight and headed back outside to grab her gear. He joined her, unloading the travois and helping her take their supplies deeper into the cave.

He had to give her credit; she’d prepared well for a night in a cave. The well-packed duffel he’d been dragging behind him on the travois contained a portable propane heater, two fleece-lined sleeping bags and extra bottled water. “You forgot the portable toilet.” He slanted a sly look her way.

She waved her hand toward the cave entrance. “The toilet came with the accommodations.”

“Yeah, I’ve used it before.” He folded one of the sleeping bags into a square and sat cross-legged in front of the duffel bag, looking through the rest of the supplies. “No wonder that bloody thing weighed so much. You packed half your cabin.”

She followed his example and folded her own sleeping bag into a makeshift seat cushion. “I wasn’t sure how long we’d have to be out in the elements.” She opened a bottle of water and took a drink.

He grabbed his own bottle of water. It was icy cold, which might have been good about six months ago when he was living through the hot North Carolina summer, but now served to add chills on top of his existing shivers. “How long does that heater last?”

“Six to twelve hours, depending on the heat level. I figured we’d start as low as we can so we can make it last longer. These sleeping bags will help. And we should probably change into dry clothes now, too.”

“You want me to wait outside?”

She met his questioning look with one arched eyebrow. “I don’t think either of us grew anything new since the last time we saw each other naked. I know I haven’t.”

He smiled at that as he stood up. “I’ll turn my back anyway.”

“Chicken,” she murmured.

His grin faded as he heard the zip of her jeans and struggled to keep a memory of her sleek curves and warm golden skin from taking over his brain. After shucking off his own wet clothes, he pulled on the jeans and sweater he’d stashed in his backpack. The dry clothes warmed him immediately.

“All done,” Olivia said.

Turning, he shook the melted snow out of his hair and used his discarded sweater to soak up some of the remaining moisture. “You became quite the Girl Scout while we were apart. I used to beg you to go camping, with very little luck, and here you are earning your merit badge in disaster prep.”

“There’s a difference between knowing how to survive in the wilderness and actually wanting to do it for recreation.” She settled on her sleeping bag again and took off her boots and damp socks. Her toenails, he noted, were neatly pedicured and polished a bright sky blue that seemed to reflect the azure tint of her eyes. “Hopefully, we won’t be up here more than one night.”

He sat next to her on his own sleeping bag and followed her example by taking off his snow-stained boots. His socks were still mostly dry, so he didn’t take them off. While she donned dry socks and another pair of boots, he asked, “Why
did
we come up here, anyway?”

“Because it’s halfway to where I want to go. And I knew we could find shelter here for the night.”

“And where is it you want to go?”

She stopped in the middle of tying her boot and looked up at him, her expression hard to read. “We’re heading for The Gates.”

Chapter Seven

“I thought you didn’t trust Quinn.”

The words, spoken quietly but urgently, were the first words Landry had uttered since she’d told him of her intentions to hike to The Gates for refuge. She had expected resistance, and when he’d merely turned away from her and started sorting through the rest of the supplies to see what food was available for supper, she hadn’t known what to think.

The Cade Landry she’d spent almost two years of her life loving had been quick-tempered and just as quick to get over it. But she wasn’t sure this slow-simmering version was an improvement.

“I don’t trust him to put my safety above whatever mission he’s running at any given time,” she admitted, taking the MRE he was holding out to her and reading the packet label. “Spaghetti. Discriminating choice.”

He managed a smile, though she could tell he was still disturbed by the thought of putting his own safety—and freedom—in the hands of Quinn and the agents of The Gates. “Eat up. It’s going to be another long hike into Purgatory tomorrow, right?”

She sighed. “I know you’re not happy about going to The Gates, so you can stop pretending that everything’s fine.”

“What’s the point? You’re going to go whether I do or not. And since it’s your life in danger, I can’t exactly let you head off there alone, can I?”

“Why not?” She dropped the MRE on the cave floor in front of her and angled her chin toward him, her own anger rising in a rush. “You had no trouble leaving me behind two years ago, did you?”

“Maybe we should talk about who left whom.”

“Maybe we should.”

For a moment tension crackled between them like a live wire. Olivia’s chest started to ache from the hurt and anger she’d kept pent up for too long. But was a cave in the middle of a snowstorm really the place to have this argument?

“I’m sorry,” she said, picking up the MRE she’d thrown down. “This isn’t the time or place—”

“You’ll tell me when you find that time and place, right?” he asked in that quiet tone she was beginning to recognize as his slow boil.

“Do you really want to hash this out here and now?”

“No,” he admitted. “Not here or now.”

“Let’s just get some food and some sleep, in that order.” She opened the MRE and pulled out the packets inside. The entrée was the first place to start, she decided. The most calories, and she could eat it hot. She could save the items that didn’t require heating for breakfast. “You know how to use one of these things, right?”

“Yeah.” He picked up the flameless ration heater. “Been a while, though.”

“These come with saltwater packets to activate the heater.” She poured the water into the heater, activating the chemicals that produced heat. The packet warmed quickly, and she held it as long as she dared, until the heat began to sting her fingers. She shoved the entrée into the heater packet and set it aside. “What sides came in your packet?”

He went through the small packets that had come in his meal. “Cheese and crackers, fig bar, shortbread cookies, raisins—”

“Trade you my peanut butter for the cheese spread, and this yummy oatmeal cookie for the shortbread.” She waggled the packets at him.

“Deal on the cheese spread, but I don’t know. These shortbread cookies sound pretty appetizing.” He held out the packet toward her, pinning her with his gaze. “But I might be convinced to trade it for something else.”

Despite the icy chill of the cave, the air between them heated instantly. The familiar fire in his gaze was pure temptation, and damned if she didn’t want to tumble in headfirst.

She looked away. “If you want the shortbread cookies, keep them.”

He let out a little huff of air. “Here. You can have them. I’ll take the oatmeal cookie.” He laid the packet of shortbread cookies on the cave floor in front of her.

She looked up and saw something in his expression she hadn’t expected.

Sadness.

“Landry—” She stopped. Started again. “Cade.”

His eyes snapped up at her use of his first name. “You never called me Cade when we were together. No need to start now.”

“Maybe that was a mistake. I mean, you called me Olivia. Why did I have to put that distance between us?”

“That wasn’t what put distance between us.” He looked down at the shortbread cookies she hadn’t yet picked up. “And it wasn’t just you. I need you to know that I know that I was a big part of the problem.”

“Maybe we were just too damaged for anything between us to have a chance to work.” To her dismay, she felt hot tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall. She blinked hard, keeping them at bay.

“I wish I wasn’t in this situation.” He growled the words, his voice deep with frustration. “I wish I’d just come to you before, when there weren’t people hunting for us both. I wish I’d told you that I loved you and we could figure out a way to make it work.”

“I could have tracked you down and said the same thing.” She made herself look at him, to face the choices she’d made. “I wasn’t ready to make that move, and I wouldn’t have been ready to give you a second chance if you’d shown up at my door, either.”

“Then why don’t I feel like it’s really over?” The words seemed to tumble from his lips, fast and desperate, as if something inside him was determined to get the question out before his better judgment found a way to shut him up.

“I don’t know,” she answered as truthfully as she could.

“You don’t feel that way, do you?”

She could lie, she supposed. Tell him what he clearly believed to be the truth. But she’d never been able to lie to him with any effectiveness.

“I do,” she admitted, forcing herself to say it. Get it over with. “I do feel that way. I never felt as if we got any closure, the way it ended. You know?”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I need you to know. I really loved you. Like I’ve never loved anybody in my whole life. And when things fell apart, I felt ripped in two.” She couldn’t stop the tears, as much as she wanted to. She pushed them away with her fingertips, shooting him a watery smile. “Sorry. I know you hate it when I cry.”

He reached across the space between them, the pad of his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. “I know you loved me.” He dropped his hand away. “You just couldn’t believe in me.”

“You said that before. When you first showed up at my cabin yesterday. You said I just couldn’t believe in you enough. But I don’t know why you think that. Is it just because I didn’t tell the panel that I remembered getting an order?”

“No, of course not.” He looked puzzled by the question. “I knew you had a head injury, so I get that you might not have remembered the order.”

“Then what did I do that was so unforgivable?”

“It’s what you told the panel about my obsession with the BRI.”

Now she was the one who was confused. “What?”

“Olivia, it’s okay. Maybe you were right. Maybe I was getting a little too focused on bringing them down. I mean, look at the mess that obsession has gotten me into now.”

“But I didn’t say—”

“Peterson sneaked me a copy of the transcript of your debriefing. I read your statement.”

She shook her head. “There’s got to be some mistake. I mean, yeah, I was still suffering from the concussion, but I remember really clearly what I told the investigation team, and I didn’t say anything like that about you.”

“But your statement—”

“Either you misread it, or you didn’t see the real transcript,” she said firmly, anger rushing heat into her cheeks. “Because I never said anything like that to the debriefing team. Concussion or no concussion.”

“How can you be sure? If you had a head injury, maybe you said things you were thinking that you wouldn’t have said aloud if you weren’t suffering a concussion—”

“I know I didn’t say it, because I never thought it. I never thought you were obsessed with the BRI. You were passionate about bringing them to justice, yes. But so was I. We both wanted that group of terrorists stopped.”

A look of dismay crossed his face. “Then if you didn’t say it—”

A chill washed over her that had nothing to do with the snowy weather outside the cave. “Someone falsified my deposition.”

“But who?”

“Peterson’s the one who gave you the sneak peek. Could he have changed it?”

“I guess he could have, but why would he? He’d gain nothing from it. He wasn’t on the SWAT team that day.” Landry rubbed his chin, his palm making a soft swishing sound against his beard stubble. “Who was in the debriefing with you?”

She frowned, trying to remember. “Definitely the squad leader, O’Bannon. Agents Thompson and Lopez of Internal Affairs.”

“What about Darryl Boyle? Was he there?”

She met his urgent gaze. “Yes. He’d been the unit leader that day.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that day in Richmond. I’ve gone over it and over it in my head, replaying every second.”

“I wish I could remember.”

“No. You don’t. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you don’t remember.” He looked queasy. “You don’t remember two of our friends—our brothers—blown up in front of us.”

She reached across the space between them, touching his hand. His gaze snapped up to hers, but instead of pulling away, he covered her hand with his own.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t well enough to attend the funerals for Davis and Darnell. I should have been there with you.”

“I missed you,” he admitted, giving her hand a light squeeze before he pulled away and rose to his feet. There was a faint glow of lingering daylight coming from the mouth of the cave; he walked toward it slowly until he stood in the opening.

She tugged her jacket more tightly around her and followed, stopping next to him in the cave opening. “Snow’s starting to slow down.”

He glanced at her. “How much more do you think fell?”

She gazed into the gloom, making out only faint impressions of their trek to the cave in the snow. “At least three or four more inches. Looks like maybe nine inches altogether.”

With a little shiver, he turned and walked deeper into the cave. “How long before we can turn on the heater?”

“I’d like to wait until we bunk down. Let’s eat. The food should be heated by now, and that should warm us up for a bit.”

He lowered himself onto the folded sleeping bag and reached for the box holding his MRE.

“Use your—”

He growled an oath and dropped the now-open box on the cave floor.

“Glove,” she finished.

“Thanks for the warning.” He slipped on his glove and fished the hot entrée out of the box while she did the same. Steam rose from the packets, filling the air around them with the smell of food.

They ate in silence from the entrée packets and drank a whole bottle of water each before stowing away the trash for disposal when they reached town the next day. Outside, night had descended, snuffing out almost all the light from the world beyond the cave.

“I want to get a predawn start tomorrow,” she warned as she handed him the flashlight. “Here, hold this where I can see what I’m doing with this heater.”

He pointed the flashlight beam toward the small propane heater. “Is it dangerous to run that thing in an enclosed space like this?”

“It shuts off automatically if the oxygen level gets too low.” She made sure the fuel tank was safely seated in place. She turned on the power, and heat rose from the vents. “Plus, this cave has an opening deeper inside. If you wet your finger and hold it up, you’ll feel the breeze.”

His lips curved and his dimples made a quick appearance. “I’ll take your word for that.”

“We should probably try to sleep with our backs to the heater,” she suggested as she unfolded her sleeping bag and laid it out by the unit.

He followed her lead, setting up his bag on the other side of the heater. “How much more battery time does that flashlight have?”

“Should be plenty for the trip. But let’s not waste it.” She switched it off, plunging the cave into inky darkness.

For a few minutes, the sounds of movement, hers and his, filled the silence as they unzipped their sleeping bags and slid inside, then zipped themselves up within the fleece-lined cocoons.

Silence reigned again for a long while, broken only by the soft whisper of their breathing and the hiss of the propane heater warming the air between them.

“I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled in the darkness a long time later, just as she was starting to relax.

“For what?” she asked, resisting the temptation to turn over to face him.

“For being reckless. Getting that money out of our joint bank account yesterday, even though I knew it was possible—probable—that the account would have been flagged.”

“So why did you?”

“I guess I was just tired of being out there alone,” he said after a long pause. “I missed having someone who gave a damn about my life, and since you were the last person who really did—”

“I’m not sorry,” she said quietly.

When he didn’t respond, she wondered if he’d heard her.

“I’m not sorry,” she said more loudly, turning her head to make sure he could hear her. “I’ve been so worried about you, for a lot longer than just the time you’ve been missing. I’m glad you came to my cabin. I’m glad I know you’re okay.”

“For now.”

She sighed, turning her back to him again, suddenly overwhelmed by a heavy sense of danger creeping closer.

“For now,” she conceded and closed her eyes, giving in to the bone-aching weariness from a day’s hike up the mountain.

She didn’t think she’d fall asleep easily, despite her fatigue, but the comforting flow of warmth from the propane heater and the soft, steady cadence of Landry’s breathing soothed her into deep, dreamless slumber.

* * *

L
ANDRY
OPENED
HIS
eyes and stared into the black void of the cave, listening to Olivia’s slow, steady breathing. It felt a little ridiculous, really, to be forcing himself to stay awake just so he could listen to her sleep nearby.

That was how much he’d missed her. Enough that something as simple as hearing her move oxygen in and out of her lungs was the most comforting sound he’d heard in two long years.

Why had he let her go? His reasons had seemed so right, so overpowering, in the heat of his anger and the burning humiliation of what he’d perceived as betrayal. But he believed her now when she said she’d told only the truth.