Storm Clouds

“I’m open to suggestions,” she shot back.

He nodded, not understanding what she meant, since he was the one driving. “We’re coming up on these canyons.” He nodded to where the terrain was rising up on each side of them. “I know a path through…”

“They’ll follow,” she argued.

He glanced at her and thought that for someone in trouble, she was pretty argumentative. She had turned and was putting her seat belt on.

“Trust me,” he said.

She glared at him. “I don’t trust anyone.”

He wasn’t sure how to take that. He concentrated on the curves instead of the woman. The shooting had stopped for the time being since the other car couldn’t get a clear shot. “When we get around this next corner I need you to hold on,” he called out.

She nodded and braced herself.

He took a deep breath and prayed he didn’t kill them both.

A sharp U-turn and he took a path opposite to the way he’d been going and continued, right to the edge of the road—and then over.

The woman screamed.

He couldn’t help but let out a shout as adrenaline rushed through his body.

They crashed down over the side, rattling him from his feet to his teeth. He slammed on the brake and the woman slid forward.

With quick agility, David shoved the gear into Reverse and backed up until he was inside one of the numerous caves in the area. He kept going until they were back beyond anyone’s ability to see inside to where they were.

Above them, they heard the car racing past.

He held his breath, waiting, but didn’t hear them returning. He could only hope they’d bought it.

Turning toward the woman, he started to say something, pausing when he suddenly realized she was awfully calm considering what he’d just done. His curiosity turned to alarm when he realized the woman was lying back against the seat, still and quiet. “Lady?” He reached over and touched her cheek.

It was wet. And she didn’t respond to his touch.

Cold fear shot through him as he realized the passenger was injured.

He opened the glove compartment and found his flashlight. Flipping it on, he saw instantly she’d hit her head. Blood trickled from just below her hairline.

He released his seat belt and turned to grab the first aid kit he kept in the Jeep. It was too easy for things to happen out there so he always kept a kit with him. Fishing through it, he found what he wanted.

Heartened when the woman next to him groaned and moved, he asked, “Can you hear me?” He pulled out some gauze and bandages.

She groaned again.

He reached up to push her long dark hair back behind her ear so he could examine the wound more closely.

She grabbed his hand and nearly broke his fingers.

He jerked back and she pulled him forward.

Immediately he leaned into the fight and pinned her. “Calm down, my little wombat,” he whispered.

It must have been his voice or maybe she was finally regaining consciousness completely because she stiffened and then relaxed, releasing him. “Sorry,” she muttered and in the dim light, he saw her wince.

“Be still. Let me bandage that head.”

It was cool in the cave and he felt the woman shiver. He reached behind her seat and grabbed the jacket he’d worn earlier. “Here, sweetheart, wear this.”

“I’m no one’s sweetheart,” she objected.

He smiled slightly. “Still feisty.” Tearing open the gauze, he pulled it out of the package and then placed it over the small laceration. Taking the second one out of the package, he started wiping up the blood from her face. “I don’t think this is as bad as it looks.”

“You’re not the one with the pounding head.” Her deep voice echoed, a bit put off at the moment. He would be too, he reminded himself, if he’d just been hurt as she had.

As he wiped her face, high cheekbones revealed themselves on a long angular face. She was quite beautiful. And those deep-brown eyes…

“Done yet?” she grouched at him.

Pulled back to the business at hand, he tossed the bloody gauze and grabbed the roll of first aid tape. Firmly taping the fresh gauze over her wound, he paused to reach out and pull her hair from behind her ear.

Her gaze shot to his as if he’d done something of which she didn’t approve.

He admitted it was a very intimate gesture, but he’d had to touch the soft hair once again.

Sitting back, he studied the woman carefully, working to break the intimacy of his gesture. “I’m David Lemming. And you are?”

“Hurting from head to toe,” she answered. “Got any painkillers in that box?”

He lifted a brow at the way she’d avoided answering then reached in and pulled out some medication, which he handed to her. She didn’t blink, but slipped it into her mouth and swallowed without water.

He swallowed, his own throat dry. He felt a bit like choking as he watched her.

She glanced ahead and then finally cut a quick glance at him. “Angelina Harding.”

He nodded. Turning around to face the front as she did, he stared toward the bright dusty exit to their inner sanctum. “You were unconscious when they passed, but they have long since gone on down the road.”

“They’ll be back,” she warned.

He thought about that. Curious, he asked, “Why are they after you?”

She sighed and leaned back against the headrest. “I honestly don’t know, but I’m afraid it might have something to do with my brother.”

Though that made no sense to him, he didn’t ask for more information. “I need to call the authorities.” He snagged the radio in the car to call in—and saw the bullet holes. Consternation forced a temporary scowl to his face. “Well, that’s out.”

“Don’t you have a cell phone?” she asked. “I need to check on my brother.”

Incredulous he turned to look at her. He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to answer that one. “Where is your brother?”