Chapter 13
“You saw that trail in light snow,” I reminded him. “The first half isn”t too bad. You can practically drive a golf cart on that thing. But the second half after the split—” I dropped my hand and picked up my fork, shaking my head in dismissal at his crazy idea. “The second half after the trail splits is treacherous in this kind of weather. If the snow hasn”t melted, you won’t be able to see anything. You can’t carry me out with uncertain footing. We could both go down in a ravine if you slip at the wrong moment.”
“I won’t slip.”
“Hawk, if there’s anybody who could handle it, it would be you. But it”s too dangerous. You know it”s too dangerous. You”re being reckless.”
He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not reckless. I”m the one who knows security. I know what”s safe and what”s not. I can’t believe you think I”d put you in danger.”
“You don’t know these mountains like I do. And I just said if I trusted anyone, it would be you.” I put down my fork and sat back, crossing my arms over my chest in a mirror of his obstinate position. “I know you don”t like this situation we”re in. I know you really don’t like it, because otherwise you’d admit that if we sit tight and wait for the snow to melt a little, the hike back will be a lot safer.”
Silence fell over the table as we stared at each other. Neither of us wanted to say it. That we’d woken up with me draped over his body, his very hard cock pressing into my hip. I liked the situation just fine, but I knew he didn”t.
“I know you want us back at the house,” I said. “I know you don”t like being here.”
“It”s not that I don”t like being here,” he ground out, which was more of a concession than I expected.
“It”s not safe to leave the second the snow stops,” I pressed. “You know it, and I know it. And in any case, it hasn”t stopped yet. It has to eventually. We’re not in the Arctic. And if history is any indication, not long after it stops, it”ll all be gone. The weather shifts fast here. Once the storm has blown through, the snow won’t hang around.”
“We don”t have that kind of time,” Hawk said.
“You don”t know that,” I argued, though I didn’t really believe my own words. “Maybe that was just some rando in the woods.”
Hawk shook his head. “It wasn’t.”
“How do you know?” I wanted to think his determination to leave was all about getting away from me. I didn’t love that motivation, but it was better than the alternative, which was that we were in actual danger from a psycho. Bears and cougars and surviving in the woods I was comfortable with. This I was not.
Hawk looked up at the ceiling as if gathering patience. When he looked back at me, his expression was gentler than I expected. My stomach tightened, bracing for what came next.
“The zip ties,” he said, his voice slow but clear. “Those weren’t hardware store zip ties, Quinn. They were the kind law enforcement uses. And his camo. Most people who have camo don”t have winter camo. Not in North Carolina. And the way he moved was—” Hawk shook his head. “It wasn’t some random guy who wandered onto your land from the national forest. Whoever it was, they were looking for you. And now here we are, isolated and alone. We’re sitting ducks.”
I couldn’t pretend that didn’t scare the shit out of me. “But that doesn’t make sense. If it’s about the necklace—” I closed my eyes, trying to think. “If this wasn’t some random guy, it doesn’t make sense. I left a few hours after I saw Harvey. There wasn’t enough time to get some professional bad guy and send him after me.”
Hawk’s eyes crinkled at the corners, I think at my terminology. I was pretty sure whoever it was who attacked me in the woods, his business card didn’t say Professional Bad Guy.
“I agree, that seems unlikely. But most of the shit surrounding your family is unlikely. I’m not ignoring the danger just because we don’t know why it’s there. I have to go on what we know. We know a man attacked you with the intention of kidnapping you, and that’s the best possible outcome he had planned. We know he was armed and prepared. And we know he’s out there somewhere.”
I swallowed hard, staring into the dregs of coffee at the bottom of the blue-speckled camp mug. I’d been more focused on being alone with Hawk than the threat out there in the woods. I didn’t want to be scared. I’d spent enough of my life living in fear, of having to be constantly on watch to keep myself safe. I wasn’t going to live like that again. And thanks to the man in the woods, I wasn’t sure I had a choice. Denial could be nice, but I wasn’t stupid. I wouldn’t endanger our lives because I didn’t want to face reality. We still couldn’t hike out though. So we’d have to figure out how to be safer here.
As if he was reading my mind, Hawk asked, “Did your dad leave any weapons in the cabin?”
I nodded, then shook my head. “He did, but they”re not here now. I”m not much of a hunter. Not a hunter at all, actually. I don”t have a problem with it, but I like the deer too much to pull a trigger on them.”
“Don’t like venison?” Hawk asked, that glint of humor I loved sparking in his eyes.
I grinned back. “Love it. You can call me a hypocrite because I’ll chow down on some venison, but I don”t want to be the one who killed Bambi.” I set my empty coffee cup on the table with a shrug. “I brought all the weapons back to the house. I don’t know what Griffen did with them. I only carry the gun you saw and a hunting knife in my pack.” I glanced at the firewood stacked by the woodstove. “I have an ax too. And you have your gun.”
He nodded. “Two weapons and two clips between us, plus a few knives and an ax. Not a lot of firepower. We”re too vulnerable. I won’t risk you.”
I let out a breath. I didn”t know what to say to that. I didn”t want to risk me either. And I liked that he wanted to protect me. Was I imagining heat in his voice when he said that? The intent in his eyes? Was I seeing something I wanted to see? I didn’t think so. But this was about more than me and Hawk and what I hoped could be. This was about keeping us both alive.
He didn’t want to risk me.
I didn’t want to risk him.
I’d been blocking out what happened yesterday in the woods. That gunshot. The long minutes when I didn’t know who fired it. If Hawk had been hit saving me—if anything happened to him—there was more going on than the two of us stranded in this cozy cabin in the snow.
“Can we stop arguing about this?” I asked. “It’s pointless until the snow stops and we can see what we”re dealing with.”
Hawk gave a jerk of his head that looked like a nod. “Agreed.” He picked up his empty plate, grabbed mine, and set them both in the sink. “I have to go check the area again, see if there’s any sign of him. I’ll wash these when I get back.”
“Okay. Be careful out there. Visibility is down to nothing, and you don”t know the territory,” I said.
Hawk shook his head. “I do know it. I’ll be careful, but I know the terrain.”
“How?” I asked. Heartstone Manor sat on thousands of acres of private land. He couldn’t know every inch of it.
“Quinn, you”re out here twice a week. Of course I scouted it.”
I didn”t know what to say to that.
I looked down into my empty coffee mug, my throat tight. Maybe I was reading way too much into everything. His job was keeping us safe. Of course he”d scouted it. I knew that, but it left me feeling cared for. It was a little scary how much I needed that. How much I wanted it from Hawk.
I was getting myself in way over my head, and he was going to leave me brokenhearted. I could see it coming, and I couldn’t turn away.
He moved to stand beside my chair. “Let’s get you to the couch.”
I nodded, not wanting my voice to give away the swirl of emotions rushing through me.
He scooped me up as if I didn’t weigh anything, carrying me to the couch. “We’ll ice that ankle again when I get back. Do you want a book or something?”
“Please. It’s in my pack, front pocket.” I pulled the wool blanket over me, settling back into the cushioned arm of the couch, positioned to face the door and front windows.
Hawk returned with my book and my gun, setting both in my lap. “Stay put while I’m gone.”
“Cross my heart,” I said, swiping my fingers over my chest.
I watched him in silence as he bundled into his winter gear with an efficiency born of long experience. “Like last night, I’ll knock three times when I come back so you know it”s me.”
I nodded and he was gone, the lock turning behind him. My gut tightened again. All the talk about the man in the woods made every second Hawk was gone stretch into an eternity. The snow was thick beyond the windows, the wind driving it at an angle, the sky heavy and gray. Hawk said he knew his way around, but it was dangerous out there.
I wasn’t just trying to delay Hawk so we could be alone in the cabin. Being alone with Hawk was a side benefit, the silver lining to the very real situation we were in. Even without the threat of the man in the woods, the forest wasn’t safe in this kind of weather. Hawk wouldn’t be able to see where he was walking, and gullies and ravines were everywhere in this part of the woods.
He could slip, hit his head. He could break something. He could?—
I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, to find calm. Despite my earlier accusation, Hawk wasn’t reckless. He knew the territory. He knew what he was doing. He’d be back soon, and I’d see for myself that he was fine.
My spiraling emotions under control, I opened my eyes. My book lay on my lap beneath my gun, both untouched. I knew Hawk would be fine, but I wouldn’t relax until he walked back through that door. Sitting there, alone in the cabin, my injured ankle throbbing and the snow coming down in sheets, I finally admitted to myself the danger we were in. I could only hope the snow was enough to keep the man in the woods pinned down wherever he’d run after Hawk’s shot grazed him.
Because Hawk was right. We were sitting ducks in this cabin, playing a waiting game with the weather. The second it was clear, we’d have to get moving. And as much as I wanted to be alone with Hawk, I didn’t want either of us here when the man in the woods came back.