скачать книгу бесплатно
“We might come across a sick or dead animal.”
She shuddered at the images that rose in her mind. A sick animal could be more dangerous than a frightened one. The beast wouldn’t have the good sense to avoid them. Most wild animals preferred to steer clear of humans unless provoked. An injured or sick creature might feel threatened and attack. Danger lurked in every direction. She moved closer to Jeff. “What other signs?”
“Feeding signs, like clipped vegetation or buried carcasses. Sleeping places. Some animals, like the fox, sleep curled beneath a bush, which would flatten the ground cover.”
They moved deeper into the forest. Keeping her gaze alert, Tessa had to double her steps to keep up with his longer stride.
He brushed back the branches of a bush for her to pass through a thicket. “Rub spots, hair or feathers. Scat. Travel routes, places where the vegetation is packed down and bruised, or spots where the leaves have been disturbed or berries of a bush have been stripped or twigs broken or grass bent.”
On the plane over from Utah, she’d read up on the national park. There’d been numerous sightings of cougars this past spring. As well as black bears and wolves. One report sighted a grizzly bear roaming the forest.
These woods covered thousands and thousands of acres across two countries. The likelihood that they’d run into a wild beast was slim. But not impossible.
Tension tightened the muscles between her shoulders. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“Through the U.S. Search and Rescue Task Force training.”
“Is that normal for a border agent?”
He shrugged. “Not mandatory. But essential when covering acres of forestland. My job requires I know how to track humans through the woods.”
She’d heard stories of people trying to enter the country illegally through the forests that separated the U.S. from Canada. Jeff’s obvious commitment to his job, to his country, was admirable.
He held out a hand, stopping her. Pointing to the ground, he said, “See this?”
She stooped down to look closer and could make out a faint impression. “What is it?”
“Not sure. Could be the pad print of a mammal, like a fox, cat or raccoon. Or even a porcupine.” His voice hardened. “Or the heel of a boot.”
A shiver of apprehension shimmied down her back. She bent to inspect the liquid and the surrounding earth. “Either this fluid has been flowing for a long time or someone has made a shallow trench.”
She hated that someone had deliberately funneled toxins into the lake. She couldn’t imagine for what purpose other than to poison the water. Someone who would have such little regard for the environment and human life wouldn’t think twice about killing them. A ribbon of fear snaked through her, raising the fine hairs at her nape.
In a low crouch, Jeff searched the ground in a wide radius. “That’s the only impression I see.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Shrugging, he straightened. “Both. Other than right next to the moist dirt, the ground is dry and solid. The dead leaves and fallen branches create a barrier, so the soil isn’t exposed enough for more prints. But that doesn’t mean we can’t tell if an animal or a person passed through the forest duff.”
He pointed out a broken twig. “Something came this way.”
Tessa’s anxiety kicked up, making her tightly strung nerves even more taut. The forest grew thicker, more oppressive the farther they ventured in. She pointed to their left, where the leaves of the forest floor had been disturbed. “And went that way.”
They pressed on. Jeff halted abruptly, putting a hand out to gently touch her arm.
Apprehension crawled up her neck. Her mouth went dry. “What?”
He glanced around, behind them to the sides. “I don’t know. I thought I heard something.”
They stood still and silent for a long moment, letting the sounds of the forest settle. Tessa clenched her hands tight to keep from reaching for Jeff.
A bird chirped high in a tree off to the right.
A chipmunk scurried out of the bushes and darted past them.
Some of the tension visibly drained from Jeff. Tessa reached for her water bottle and drank a few sips to relieve the dryness in her throat. But the lukewarm water did nothing to ease the strain wreaking havoc on her system. They pressed on. Fatigue pulled at the muscles in her legs, making the journey more labored.
Jeff broke the silence. “Where’d you grow up?”
She slanted him a quick look. “Chicago. You?”
“Seattle. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Her steps faltered. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”
“Is it? Seems like a reasonable question to ask someone you’re running for your life with.”
“Does it matter?”
“Not to me,” he said. “Just a question.”
For some reason his answer annoyed her. “Why wouldn’t you ask if I was married?”
He reached out to help her over a branch that lay across their path. “You don’t wear a ring.”
Placing her hand in his, Tessa stared, fascinated with the way his bigger, stronger hand engulfed her smaller one and by the contrast in their skin tone. Her white skin, dotted with freckles, was a trait handed down by her Irish heritage.
His suntanned, olive skin was earned protecting the border, but she wondered what he did on his days off. What were his hobbies, his passions? Did he have a family? She gave herself a mental shake. What was she doing? His personal life was none of her business. She yanked her gaze to his face and stepped over the branch. “Neither do you.”
Releasing his hold on her, he moved away. “Which means I’m not married.”
She hurried to stay in step with him. “Some guys don’t wear rings.”
“Neither do some women. But I would if I was. But I’m not.” He arched an eyebrow. “So?”
She clenched her hand around her water bottle. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No time for one. What’s your excuse?”
She let out a wry laugh. “The same, I suppose.” Seemed they both had reasons for not being in a relationship, reasons that, apparently, neither cared to share.
“What do your parents do?”
She frowned. She didn’t like discussing her family. Jeff glanced at her, clearly waiting for her answer. When she didn’t respond, he stopped and glanced around. “This would be a good time for a break.”
He led the way to a fallen maple and sat. He accepted the snack bar she offered and continued to stare at her as he ate. She wondered if he used the silent stare as an interrogation tactic.
She sighed and sat on the ground with her back against a tree. “Dad’s a lawyer. Mom owns a floral-design shop. Yours?”
“Doctors.”
The clipped way he answered sounded almost derisive. Interesting. Two could indulge in a little interrogation. She knew how to cross-examine. She’d certainly been on the receiving end of her father’s inquiries enough. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees. “What type?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Dad’s a cardiologist and a professor at the University of Washington’s medical school. Mom’s a neurosurgeon.”
“Impressive. Those are specialized practices. How come you didn’t go into medicine?”
He scoffed, “Not my forte. Why did you become a fish biologist?”
That was an easy question. One she was often asked. “I grew up in the city but longed to be outdoors. I knew early I wanted to work for the Forest Service. After receiving my B.S. in environmental studies, I went on to get my master’s in water science, then my Ph.D. in ecology.”
“Your parents must be proud of you,” he said.
She shrugged, wincing inwardly at the shaft of hurt tearing through her. “I suppose.”
She was loath to admit she didn’t have much of a relationship with either one of her parents so had no idea if they were proud or not. Neither had ever said the words to her.
He leaned forward, studying her as if she were a bacterium in a petri dish. “You don’t know?”
“Mom thinks I should get married and have babies. Dad’s glad I have a job.” That was about as close to an affirmation from him as she’d get. Dad was a perfectionist who expected everyone else to live up to the same standards that he had set for himself regardless how impossible. Few people could keep up verbally with her father. A great trait in a lawyer, but not so much in a father or, apparently, a husband.
“That’s pretty typical, isn’t it?”
She tucked in her chin. “Why? Because I’m female? Aren’t you getting pressure from your mom to settle down and give her grandchildren?”
He gave a resigned shake of his head. “No. My mom didn’t have time for her own kid. She certainly wouldn’t have time for grandchildren. I doubt she’s given it any thought.”
“What do you mean, she didn’t have time for you?” What kind of father would Jeff be? Involved and committed or one who showed up late or not at all, like her dad?
“Doctors, remember?” He rose and placed the strap of her duffel across his body. “Their patients came first. Always.”
Though his tone was even, she detected a hint of pain underlying his words. Her heart cramped with empathy. She scrambled to her feet. “Are your parents still together?”
“Yep. Nearly forty years. They still live in the same house.”
“Wow, good for them.”
He gave her a quick glance, then set off again.
She caught up to him. “Not many married couples stay together that long anymore. Marriage commitment doesn’t seem to matter.”
He appeared to be rolling her words around in his mind. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I’ve never thought about it that way. What about yours?”
Sadness invaded her chest. “Dad lives in a high-rise in Chicago and Mom moved to the Florida coast years ago.”
He glanced at her. “When did they divorce?”
“When I was five. Each has been married a couple times more since then.” New family units built. A new set of stepparents, and sometimes stepsiblings, to reject her, making her feel so very alone and unacceptable.
“That’s rough.”
“Yeah, it was. But I made it to adulthood in one piece.” But not without scars.
The terrain climbed. Tessa’s lungs grew tight from the change in altitude and the labor of their hike. She consulted the compass. They were on track, though the woods grew denser and more overgrown. The tangled tree branches overhead kept the forest shrouded in shadows and made the air cooler as the afternoon turned to dusk. Autumn temperatures in the Cascades could dip into the teens after dark. She hoped they found their way out before then. She didn’t relish the idea of spending the night in the forest.
“Hey, hold up a sec,” Tessa said. “I need something from my bag.”
She moved to stand in front of him and couldn’t help noticing the stubble on his firm, square jaw, or the width of his shoulders. They looked like they were made to carry heavy burdens. Her attraction to him was growing with every step they took. Why? She wasn’t sure.
Maybe deep down in places she hated to examine, she was lonely.
But crushing after only a few hours with him was absurd. She didn’t want to be attracted to Agent Steele. She wanted to be professional, to earn his respect. But being shot at and forced to hide in the woods weren’t exactly circumstances that led to professionalism.
Frustrated with herself, she used more force than necessary to unzip the duffel and retrieve her lightweight hoodie. She yanked it over her head, thankful for the extra layer of warmth.
A rustling in the bushes off to the right drew her focus. The leaves of the shrubs danced. Something moved through the brush. Something bigger than a chipmunk. A lot bigger. A knot of dread tightened her chest. “Something’s in there.”
Jeff touched her arm and whispered, “Behind the trees.”
He motioned to their left, where a grouping of alder grew together, their trunks nearly touching, their branches interwoven in an embrace. They hurried behind the shelter of the tree trunks.
Tessa held her breath. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Was it a cougar? Were they being stalked? Or was the predator in the bushes something even more dangerous than an animal protecting its territory?
THREE (#u046898fc-e3cf-54ec-bd2f-3d29351c0ee1)
A loud guttural noise emanated from the rustling bushes. Alarm zipped through Jeff and raised the hair on his arms. He tucked Tessa safely at his back as they took refuge behind a stand of alder trees. He searched for a weapon other than his sidearm. Shooting an animal would be his last resort.
The large brown head of a bear poked over the top of the bushes.
“It’s a grizzly.” Jeff’s stomach sank like a rock in the lake. “What’s he doing here?”
The creature stomped through the brush, snapping limbs and branches like toothpicks. Dark eyes stared in their direction. Jeff moved farther behind the tree, trying to keep as little of himself visible as possible.
The bear rose onto its back legs, making the beast well over eight feet tall. He lifted his nose in the air.
“My bag,” Tessa whispered. “I have a can of bear spray.”
Of course she did. Part of her essentials. Bless her preparedness.
He slipped the strap of her duffel off and laid it on the ground at her feet.
She dug around in the bag and then handed him a long, slender canister. “Here.”
The spray consisted of hot red pepper and could shoot up to twenty feet. An effective deterrent in the case of an attack. Jeff hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He held the can nozzle out, his finger hovering over the button. He kept his gaze to the left of the bear so the animal was in his peripheral vision.
Making eye contact could be perceived as a challenge. He didn’t want to give the creature any reason to charge.
Tessa clutched the back of his shirt. “Should we climb the tree?”
