Mountain Captive (Eagle Mountain: Criminal History #4)

Chapter Twelve

The next morning Rand awoke early—a habit from so many dawn hospital shifts. He dressed and moved to the kitchen, hearing no indication Chris was awake. Good. She had looked exhausted when she had retired to her room last night. He had felt drained, too, but not in a bad way. Revisiting the events surrounding Teri’s death had been wrenching, but cleansing too.

He had coffee brewing and was chopping vegetables for omelets when Chris came into the kitchen. “I thought you would have left for work,” she said as she headed for the coffeepot.

“I have a couple of days off.” He began cracking eggs into a bowl. “Do you want to do something today to get out of the house? Maybe a hike or a drive in the mountains?”

She sipped the coffee and closed her eyes, a look of satisfaction tugging up the corners of her mouth. He almost chuckled. He had experienced those first-sip nirvana moments himself. Then the smile faded, and she opened her eyes again. “I should probably check in with Jasmine and see if my doors have been repaired. Now that the Vine has moved on, I should go home.”

“Do you really think they’ve moved away?” Rand asked. He began sautéing the peppers, onions and mushrooms. “Maybe they’ve just relocated to a new campsite the sheriff doesn’t know about.”

She cradled her mug in both hands. “Honestly, I would be surprised if they gave up on me so easily,” she said. “They’ve been pursuing me for years. This is the first time they’ve gotten close enough to confront me face-to-face. That must feel like a victory to them.”

“I agree,” he said. “Groups like this count on people underestimating them.” The way he had underestimated the Seekers. “I think they’re probably lying low and waiting for another opportunity.”

She nodded.

“I think you should stay here until we’re sure there’s not a threat.” He turned back to the stove and added the eggs to the pan. “So, what about taking a drive into the mountains today? Maybe find a trail to hike?”

“Sure. That’s a great idea.” She straightened. “Is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?”

“Get two plates out of that cabinet there, will you?” He added cheese to the omelet, then folded it over.

She brought out the plates, and he divided the omelet between them; then they carried the meal to the table. “You’ve lived here longer than I have,” he said. “Where would be a good place for us to check out this morning?”

They discussed options. Chris’s mood seemed to lift as they talked. Rand hoped the prospect of a day spent with him—not just the momentary distraction from her concerns about the Vine—was at least partially responsible for her change in mood.

T HEY WERE CLEARING the dishes when Chris’s phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” she asked, expecting a junk call.

“I’m panicking and I need someone to talk me down off a ledge.” Bethany sounded breathless.

Chris laughed. “What’s going on?” She moved into the living room.

“I’m serious. Something terrible has happened. I need help.”

“What’s wrong?” Chris gripped the phone more tightly. “What can I do?”

“I’m thinking we could blow up the stretch of highway leading into Eagle Mountain, but my family probably wouldn’t let an obstacle like that stop them. Plus, there’s the jail time to think of, not to mention I’m afraid of explosives.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”

“Sorry. But I’m so freaked out. My family has decided if I won’t come back to Vermont to them, they will come here.”

“Your family is coming to visit you? That doesn’t sound so bad.” Leave it to Bethany—who clearly liked drama—to make something like this into a big deal.

“No, they’re moving here. All of them. My mom and dad and all three of my brothers.”

“Oh, wow. What brought this on?”

“They’re not just moving here—they’re buying the Jeep-rental business I work for. And not just the business but the building it’s in. Where my apartment is located. So now they’re going to be my bosses and my landlords as well as my parents.”

“Yikes. You weren’t kidding when you said they’re overprotective.”

“I knew the business was for sale, but I never imagined my parents would buy it. Mom and Dad said they’re ready to try something new, and they’re super excited we’re all going to be together again.”

“And your brothers are coming too. How old are they?”

“Aaron is twenty-seven. The twins, Carter and Dalton, are twenty-four. The twins are going to work for Mom and Dad. Which means they’ll be my coworkers.” She groaned. “The oldest, Aaron, has a job in town, too, though he wouldn’t tell me what it was. Which is just like him. He’s the devious one among us.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris said. “But obviously, they love you very much.”

Bethany sighed. “They do. And I love them. But they still treat me like a child. And my brothers—it’s like being surrounded by a bunch of spies. Once, when I was fourteen, some girlfriends and I toilet-papered another girl’s house, and I wasn’t back home before Mom and Dad knew about it. They made me get out of bed at six in the morning to clean up the mess I made. And forget dating. Until I was eighteen, I had to double-date with one of my brothers and his girlfriend. Even after that, bringing someone home to meet the family was a huge ordeal. I can’t tell you how many guys I never heard from again after they got the third degree from the Ames men.”

Chris laughed. “I know it’s not funny to you, but it’s so different from how I grew up. It was just my mom and me. I used to think it would be great to be part of a big, loving family.” A real family. Not one like the Vine.

“You’re right. Most of the time it is fun. I do love them, and I know they love me. But this is too much.”

“Maybe you can find another apartment. That might help some.”

“Maybe. But this apartment is one of the perks of the job. It’s part of my compensation package. I could look for a new job, but I really like this. It’s a perfect fit for me. What am I going to do?”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to give advice to anyone,” Chris said.

“Of course you are. You have your own apartment. You’re an artist. A full-time artist. That’s an incredible accomplishment. And I hear you’ve been seeing a certain very good-looking doctor.”

Chris made a face, even though Bethany couldn’t see her. “Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, you know. Someone saw you two together and told someone else, and the next thing you know, the two of you are practically engaged. You’re not, are you? Engaged, I mean?”

“No.” Chris’s stomach quivered at the thought. “Rand and I are just friends.”

“Okay, so you have a hot friend. Anyway, I bet you never did anything in your life you didn’t want to do, no matter what your friends and family said. So tell me what to do about this.”

“I don’t think there’s a lot you can do. If they’ve bought this business and are determined to move to Eagle Mountain, you can’t stop them. Maybe practice smiling and thanking them for whatever advice they feel compelled to hand out—then do whatever you want without feeling guilty. Maybe that will help them to see you in a new light.”

“You make it sound easy, but you haven’t met my family. They can be very persuasive.”

Now Chris felt queasy as she recalled some of the methods of “persuasion” the Vine had used. “They’re not, well, abusive, are they?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

“I’m sorry. I had to make sure.”

“I forget you haven’t met them yet. You know the phrase ‘killing them with kindness’? My parents are masters of that technique. I don’t think it’s possible to really love someone to death, but if it were, my parents could do it. And my brothers are all so good looking and charming they have every female, and half the men, in our hometown conned into believing they’re perfect angels. It’s infuriating, really.”

“I can’t wait to meet these people,” Chris said, suppressing a laugh.

“Oh, you’ll meet them. They’ll know everyone in town inside of two weeks. They’re that kind of friendly. And they’ll ask you all kinds of nosy questions. Feel free to ignore them, but I probably don’t have to tell you that. Please teach me how to fight my natural tendency to want people to like me. It’s painful and embarrassing, I tell you.”

“No, it’s sweet.” Chris was laughing now; she couldn’t help it. But not at Bethany. The young woman was really starting to grow on her.

“No, you’re sweet to say so.” She sighed. “Anyway, I feel better having gotten all that off my chest. What are you up to today?”

“I’m going hiking.”

“By yourself? Be careful. I don’t want to get a call later that we have to go rescue you. Not to mention—how embarrassing would that be?”

“No, I’m going with...” She started to say a friend but decided to share a little bit more with Bethany. “With Rand.”

“Oooh. Have fun. Not that you wouldn’t. He really has that hot-older-guy thing going on. I want to hear all about it later. Or not. I’m nosy, but feel free to tell me to mind my own. One good thing about having three overbearing brothers is that I have a very thick skin.”

Chris laughed again. “Have a good day, Bethany. And I’m sure things will work out with your parents.”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll be living with them when I’m forty, after they’ve scared away every single man within a hundred-mile radius. But it won’t be so terrible. My mom’s a great cook, and my dad never beats me at cards.”

Chris ended the call and returned to the kitchen, where Rand was finishing the dishes. “How old are you?” she asked.

“I’m forty-one. Why?”

“No reason. You just seem...younger.” She knew he was a little older than she was, but fourteen years older? Then again, there were plenty of times when she felt decades older than someone like Bethany, who was probably much closer to Chris’s age than Rand.

“Having second thoughts about hanging out with an old man?” he asked.

“No. I appreciate maturity.”

“Ouch!”

She turned away, smiling to herself. Bethany was right. Rand was definitely a hot older guy. There were worse ways to spend a summer afternoon than with him.

R AND DROVE HIS SUV as far as he could into the high country above town, until they reached the roads only a Jeep or similar vehicle could navigate. They chose a trail that promised a hike to a high mountain lake and set out, Harley trotting ahead. The trail climbed gradually, and they passed areas where wildflowers grew hip-deep in an extravagance of pink, purple, yellow and white. Bees and hummingbird moths wove erratic paths between blossoms, heavy with pollen, and the air was as perfumed as a boudoir. Harley stalked through the grass, then burst out ahead of them, shaking a shower of flower petals from his coat and grinning in that way dogs have, an expression of ecstasy.

“Have you been married before?” Chris asked when they had been hiking a while.

“Where did that question come from?”

She shrugged. “If you’re forty-one, I figured there was a chance you’d been married before.”

“I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

His first instinct was to say because I haven’t , but Chris deserved something less flippant. “Let’s see—six years of medical school and residency, terrible hours and no money, three years in a surgical unit in a war zone... Not conducive to long-term relationships.”

“That only takes you up to, what, thirty?”

“Three more years in a military hospital stateside. I had girlfriends but nothing ever lasted.” He shrugged. “Marriage is a big decision. One I don’t want to make unless I’m sure.”

“Fair enough.”

“Does it bother you that I’m so much older than you?”

“I didn’t even think about it until Bethany said something.”

“What did Bethany say?”

Chris smiled. “I’m not going to tell you. It will go to your head. But she referred to you as an older guy.”

“I like to think I’ve got a lot of good years left. For what it’s worth, when we first met, I thought you were older. Not because of your looks but because of your attitude.”

“Guess I’m just an old soul. And today I’m just enjoying being in a beautiful place.” She sent him a look that held a little sizzle. “With you.”

All right, then. He suddenly felt a foot taller—but also like it was time to dial back the tension. “Race you to the top of the next ridge.”

Rand beat her to the top, but just barely. They stood side by side, looking out across the mountain peaks and rolling valleys. “What is that down there?” She indicated a cluster of colored shapes in the shadow of a jagged pinnacle.

Rand dug his binoculars from his pack and focused on the spot. As he adjusted the focus, a dozen or more colorful tents came into view. “It’s a bunch of tents and people,” he said. “Didn’t Danny announce something about a scout group up here?”

“That’s next month.” She held out her hand. “Let me see.”

She studied the encampment for a long moment, her body tense. Then she returned the binoculars to him. When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Do you think it’s the Vine?”

She nodded. “I can’t prove it. And I’m afraid if I report this to the sheriff, he’ll think I’m either paranoid or vying for more attention.”

He scanned the area again. He counted at least fifteen smaller tents and several large ones. Lots of people—men, women and children—milled about. “It could be them,” he said. He lowered the binoculars again. “I’ll call the sheriff when we get back to my place. He can’t accuse me of seeking attention. He needs to know about this—he’s still looking for those involved in Lana’s death.”

“He can’t prove a crime. A grown woman has a right to refuse medical care. And she probably did refuse at first. Members of the Vine are taught that relying on outside care is a sign of weak faith. No one wants to be accused of that.”

She turned and began walking back down the way they had come. This glimpse of the Vine—or what she thought was the Vine—had changed the mood of the day. Chris now walked with her head down and shoulders bowed, unspeaking.

He wanted to tell her to cheer up. She wasn’t part of the group anymore, and they had no hold on her. But he dismissed the impulse as soon as it surfaced. Some of the members of that group had knocked him out and broken into her home. They had threatened her verbally and physically. She had every right to be afraid and to wonder if she would ever be rid of them.

So he settled for moving up beside her on the trail. “It may not feel like it, but you’ve got a lot of friends in this town,” he said. “Every member of search and rescue would help you if you asked. Jasmine thinks of you like a daughter. Bethany thinks you’re a superhero—and she wouldn’t be wrong. And of course, there’s me.”

She glanced up at him. “And what are you?”

“I’m just someone who likes being with you,” he said. “I’m the one who’ll break the trail ahead or stand by your side or watch your back. Whatever you need.”

She didn’t answer right away. He started to ask if he had overwhelmed her with bad-romance dialogue when she said, “I’ve never had anyone to do those things before. I’m usually charting my own path.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m here. If you need me.”

She straightened. “And what’s in it for you, Doctor?”

He flashed his most insolent grin. “I get to hang out with a hot younger woman. It does wonders for my image, I tell you.”

As he had hoped, she burst out laughing, then punched his shoulder. He laughed too. “For that, I think you owe me dinner,” she said.

It’s a date, he thought. But no, he wouldn’t use the D word. He didn’t want to scare her off. “That’s a great idea.” He hooked his thumbs beneath the straps of his pack. “First one down gets to pick the restaurant.” Then he set off, long strides eating up the distance.

“That’s not fair. You have longer legs than me,” she called.

“What was that? I’m an old man, remember? I’m probably losing my hearing.”

He was still enjoying her laughter when she blew past him, shoes raising puffs of dust as she raced down the trail.

Nineteen years ago

“M OM ! M OM ! Peace and Victory and I were playing by the creek, and we saw the biggest fish!” Elita skidded to a stop in the middle of the trailer’s main room and stared at the boxes stacked around the room. “What’s going on?”

Her mother looked up from one of the boxes. “We’re moving. Come on. You can help me wrap these dishes.” She indicated the stack of plates on the coffee table beside her.

“Why do we have to move?” Elita stamped her foot. “I like it here.” There were the woods to play in and the little creek, and the secret playhouse she and her friends had made with sticks and vines in a spot no one knew about but them.

“The Exalted says it’s time to move, so we’re moving.” Mom didn’t look any happier about the relocation than Elita.

“We’re moving to an even better location.” Her father came into the room, carrying the stack of old blankets they used to cushion fragile items for the move.

“How do you know that?” her mother asked. “This was supposed to be a better location, too, but we’ve only been here six months, and already we have to move.”

“The Exalted said it’s not fertile ground,” her father said.

“Is he planting a garden?” Elita asked. Some of their neighbors had little gardens planted around their tents or trailers. Elita and her friends sometimes dug in the dirt and “planted” flowers and twigs and things. She liked playing in the cool dirt.

“He means there aren’t many people around here who want to learn the Exalted’s teachings.” Her dad patted her head.

“Or maybe the locals have complained about us squatting here,” her mother said.

Her father’s expression darkened. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” he said. “If people really understood the gift the Exalted could give them, they would welcome us with open arms and beg us to stay as long as possible so they could hear his teachings.”

Her mother bent over the dishes again, shaking her head. “There are some old newspapers in the kitchen, Elita,” she said. “Would you get them for me?”

She had just picked up the stack of papers when someone knocked on the back door. She walked over and opened it, and stared, open mouthed, at the man who stood there. The man—tall and broad shouldered, with a mop of blond hair and piercing blue eyes—stared back at her. He reminded Elita of a picture of Jack in the copy of Jack and the Beanstalk her mother had read to her. “Hello, Elita,” the man said. “Is your father here?”

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

“I know all about you,” the man said. “The Exalted has asked me to keep an eye on you. You’re a lucky girl to be so fated.”

“Jedediah! What can I do for you?” Her father hurried to greet the man.

“You need to be ready to head out by one o’clock,” Jedediah said. “Cephus will be here then to tow your trailer. You and your family will travel in the bus.”

“I don’t want to move,” Elita said.

Both men turned to her. “Elita, hush!” her father ordered. “It’s not your place to question the Exalted.”

“Your father is right,” Jedediah said. “Your job is to obey. The sooner you master that job, the better for you and for the group. No supper for you tonight, to teach you to master your impulses.”

He exited the trailer, and Elita began to cry. Her mother came into the room. “What’s going on? Elita, why are you crying?”

“Jedediah was here,” her father said. “Elita told him she didn’t want to move. He said for questioning the Exalted, she was forbidden to have supper tonight.”

“Who is he to tell us how to discipline our daughter?” Her mother put an arm around Elita. “And she’s only eight.”

Her father looked troubled. “We can’t disobey Jedediah,” he said. “He’s the Exalted’s right-hand man.”

“I’m not going to starve my child.”

“She won’t starve. She’s gone longer than one night without food during the ritual fasts.”

“And you know I don’t agree with those either. Not for children.”

Her father glanced out the window. “Lower your voice. Someone will hear you. And get back to packing. They’re coming for the trailer at one.” The family didn’t own a truck, so they relied on one of the other members of the Vine to tow their travel trailer to the next camp. They would ride with other families in a converted school bus the group owned.

Chris’s mother frowned at her husband, then marched to the cabinet and took out bread and peanut butter. “What are you doing?” her father asked.

“I’m making a sandwich.”

“You can’t give it to Elita.”

“The sandwich is for me.” She spread peanut butter between two slices of bread, then wrapped it in wax paper and tucked it in her pocket. As she exited the room, she caught Elita’s eye and winked. Elita immediately felt better. Later on, when no one was looking, she knew her mother would give her the sandwich. Her father might believe in strict obedience to the Exalted, but her mother had different priorities, and Elita was one of them.