“You did anticipate,” she said, her voice catching. “If you hadn’t pulled me in front of you, that blade would have split my head.”

  “But I should have played it differently. Should have dove under and taken you with me. Not given him such a target.”

  It was ludicrous to think he could have avoided an expertly thrown hatchet while chest deep in a raging river, with one arm holding her and the other gripping a slippery rope. Even if he was a super cowboy and had the buckles to prove it. And there was so much she wanted to thank him for, but she was suddenly tired, shaky and very, very cold.

  “I’m j-just glad we both made it across,” she said. Her voice was trembling and she didn’t know why. It felt like her entire body was shuddering.

  “It’s the adrenaline,” Carter said, tightening his arm around her. “And even if I hadn’t made it across, you’d be fine alone here for a few days. Hell, you’d be fine for a month. You’re not a helpless kid anymore but a supremely capable woman.”

  She could feel his warm skin, the steady beat of his heart, the way his words rumbled in his chest, all so comforting. But she didn’t like the way he was looking at her. It felt like a pep talk, and it left her suspicious.

  “But I’m not alone,” she said. “Someone will raft down that river or else ride along the shore. If not tonight, then tomorrow.”

  “They’ll check the logging road first.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “It might be a couple days before anyone rides this section of the river.”

  “That’s fine,” she said, trying to adopt his tone. “We’ll be a little hungry but we’ll be okay. Maybe I can catch some fish or something. Kate can start a fire with flint, and grilled trout are great. Do you happen to have flint or waterproof matches or anything like that in your pockets?”

  The stricken look on his face made her instantly regret the question. He was a cowboy to the bone; he’d be more likely to carry a hoof pick.

  “Of course you don’t have flint,” she said quickly. “I don’t either. But we can keep each other warm at night. Even if it’s a couple days, we’ll be fine. And I love sushi.”

  “It’s okay in a pinch,” he said. “But I’m afraid my knife is somewhere at the bottom of the river.” Then he tilted her chin and gave her a tender kiss, one that said so much more than the actual embrace. He kept his mouth pressed against her, his voice warm against her skin. “You’re really something, Allie. And I love...your attitude.”

  She shifted and glanced upriver, pretending to look for rafters. For one glorious moment, she’d thought he’d been about to say he loved her. And of course she wasn’t disappointed or anything. It was great he loved her attitude. Absolutely great.

  “It’s probably easier to build a rock weir than try to fashion a line and hook,” she said, keeping her voice light. “What do you think? I knew a neat guy who caught lots of trout that way, even more than the anglers.”

  “I don’t know. I’m a fan of fly fishing.” Carter’s voice sharpened. “Was this neat guy a boyfriend or a guest?”

  A guest, of course. Her activities revolved around the ranch. Compared to Carter, her love life was boring. She considered pretending the guy had been a boyfriend. But lying wasn’t in her nature.

  “He was a guest,” she said.

  “Means you didn’t date him, right?”

  “That’s right,” she admitted. “Employees aren’t allowed to date guests. Sharon is quite firm on that.”

  “An excellent policy to have,” Carter said, his voice rather smug. “And one I wholeheartedly approve.”

  “I bet you’re glad they didn’t have that policy on the rodeo circuit.” She sniffed. “And by the way, staff aren’t allowed to date other staff either. So when we go back—”

  “We’ll have to change the policy,” he said.

  She glanced up. His eyes were closed now. He was smiling but his mouth looked stubborn, as if fully intending to take on Sharon. That was reassuring. Unlike her, he didn’t accept every rule or every job thrown at him. Of course, he wasn’t afraid of leaving the ranch. But if he stayed they could work on their relationship. He might not love her yet but if they were permitted to date, it could happen. Besides, there had already been some exceptions to Sharon’s rule.

  Everyone knew Monty and Cookie were inseparable, and Kate would be returning as a married woman. Of course, it was pointless to think too far ahead, but at least Carter didn’t see her as a temporary trail companion, one he was stuck with for a few days.

  She fell asleep by his side, smiling and content.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Allie wiggled against her pillow, wishing it wasn’t so unbearably hot. She tried flipping it over but it was oddly shaped: heavy and inflexible. Her eyes shot open, staring up at the fading blue of the sky even as she remembered she was lying beside the river. With Carter. Surprisingly, her gyrations hadn’t woken him.

  She sat up and peeked at his bandage, relieved that even though it was sprinkled with red there hadn’t been a hemorrhage of blood. And he was sleeping peacefully. They could handle a day or two of this, no problem, especially if she could trap some fish. Actually it would be rather nice to catch up on some sleep, and talk with Carter about normal things.

  But when she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, her good spirits plummeted. He was hot, burning hot, his body blasting heat like a furnace. No wonder she’d woken.

  “Carter,” she whispered. He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. He probably needed his sleep. Beside, a fever wasn’t so bad. Just the body’s way of fighting bacteria. On the other hand, she’d heard horrifying stories of strep and staph infections.

  She took a fortifying breath and eased back toward his shoulder, gingerly checking the skin around the bandage. At first glance the color seemed normal—except for several telltale dots of red.

  Oh, God. She choked back a groan and for a second quit breathing. Then she shook him, calling his name, praying he’d open his eyes and give her that slow deep smile.

  But he was unresponsive.

  She glanced upriver. There was still a chance of water traffic. Not so much now since the day was ending, but someone might come along. They had to. He needed antibiotics, a doctor and a hospital. And he needed them quickly.

  She clasped her arms around her knees, rocking back and forth, feeling stuck and helpless. So many times she’d huddled like this, waiting for her mother to come home before one of the creepy boyfriends found her. Only this was much worse.

  Tears blurred her vision. Because of her, he was in grave danger. Twice now, he’d saved her life. Had he suspected this would happen? Earlier he’d pumped her up, talking about how she was capable of waiting here alone, for days if necessary. As if he knew a rescue wouldn’t be quick. But she couldn’t just sit and watch as infection took over his body.

  This side of the river might be riddled with chasms but it also led to the bridge. So what if there were a few rocks and mountain lions. She had a perfectly good lariat and she’d already hiked over some fairly rough terrain. She was so scared and desperate she could probably screech loud enough to scare off any predator.

  She twisted to her knees, pressing her lips close to Carter’s ear. “I’m going for help,” she said. She gave him a gentle shake, watching his eyes for the smallest flicker of movement. A simple acknowledgement. But there was nothing.

  “Don’t worry.” She swallowed the lump that clogged her throat, hating that he might wake up and think she’d deserted him. “I’ll run as fast I can. I promise. I love you.”

  She rose slowly, regretfully, wishing she could leave him food, a blanket. But their only possession was his lariat, and she would need that. Kate had spoken about a huge crevice on the western side of the Mustang River. How it was effective for separating the wildlife refuge from hikers. Hopefully it wasn’t too wide or deep, but no matter. Because if that was what separated her from his rescuers, she was determined to cross it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Three muddy all-terrain vehicles, a media SUV, two trucks and one aluminum stock trailer crowded the sunny side of the Mustang River Bridge. Sharon Barrett doubted this isolated section had ever seen so much traffic. Despite the fact that Janet Bailey had been captured six miles from the finish line—and had needed to ride a horse to make it to the pickup point—she was still a hot media item.

  Obviously Janet wanted to pump the event for every ounce of publicity, despite her failure to complete the race. Understandable. Olympic fame was fleeting and everyone had to make a living. But it bothered Sharon that the woman had no idea where Allie was. Teams sometimes split up but generally their separation was a mistake, the simple result of bolting to opposite sides of a trail after being surprised by their pursuers. Usually they were found within a mile of each other, not twenty.

  Sharon flattened the map against the hood of her truck and glanced back at Monty. “Show me again where you last saw Allie.”

  “I never did see her,” Monty said. “Never saw Janet either, not until last night when I found her walking in circles. That’s when I radioed in.”

  Sharon stared blankly at the map, picturing the thick woods and unable to shake her concern. “Do you think Carter caught up with Allie? That he’s with her now?”

  “Maybe. If he’s stubborn enough.” Monty grimaced. “But that brush she was squeezing through was thick enough to stop anything but a frightened rabbit.”

  She probably was frightened, Sharon thought, hit with a wave of shame. Allie’s loyalty to the ranch meant she never turned down any job, big or small. And Sharon had taken full advantage. It was always easier to re-assign her and have the job done right, rather than train a new hire. Allie had never elaborated on her childhood but Sharon knew there was some sort of trauma so she never asked Allie to do anything that would leave her alone and vulnerable.

  Until now.

  Worse, she was in a foreign environment. It was like dropping a beloved house cat into the jungle and expecting it to survive.

  “I shouldn’t have let her do this.” Sharon twisted a corner of the map, folding it in agitation and then straightening it again. “But she wasn’t supposed to be in the woods more than a couple hours. Janet insisted she only wanted her to start the race. What the hell were you and Carter doing? Why didn’t you catch her?”

  “She was quick and very clever,” Monty said dryly.

  “But once she was too tired to go any further, why wouldn’t she have radioed her pickup point?”

  “Janet took the radio,” Monty said. “I don’t think she left Allie much in the way of supplies.”

  Sharon wheeled, glaring at Janet. The woman posed twenty feet away, looking way too triumphant for someone who’d meekly surrendered miles from the finish line. She was waving a blue electrolyte drink—no doubt gunning for a sponsorship—and smiling for a photo. Her participation would give the race credibility with athletes worldwide, but Sharon’s earlier admiration for Janet had fizzled.

  Leaving an exhausted partner without a radio or supplies was callous. That Janet had done it to someone as sweet and generous as Allie made it impossible to swallow. And it wasn’t something Sharon was prepared to forgive.

  She swung back toward Monty. “The four-wheelers can check the logging road. I’m going to take the fresh horses and retrace your trail. If we don’t find Allie and Carter by noon, I’ll send up a helicopter.”

  “I’ll ride back with you,” Monty said, already adjusting his hat. “Carter had the tough job. He’ll be relieved to get back on a horse.”

  She nodded, not surprised Monty wouldn’t return to the ranch until his partner was located. In hindsight, he should have left Carter his radio, no matter that he’d been intent on catching Janet and reporting her capture. For the next Man Tracker race she would insist that every participant carry a radio, regardless of the extra weight. “We’ll mount up in five minutes,” she said, her voice clipped. “But first I want to speak to Janet.”

  “Whoa, boss.” Monty placed a warning hand on her arm. “Remember, she followed all the rules. And she didn’t win. In fact, she was damn easy to catch after she struck out on her own.”

  “But she didn’t race honorably,” Sharon said. “She knew Allie only volunteered because she felt guilty about Rebecca’s injury. And this is how she treated her!”

  Sharon tried to keep her disgust under control, but judging from Monty’s worried expression, she wasn’t doing a good job. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to lose her temper but she wanted to ensure Janet didn’t walk away from this lily white.

  Shaking off Monty’s hand, she stalked toward Janet and the semi-circle of reporters. She could hear Janet describing the burden of towing along an inexperienced race partner, and it made Sharon’s teeth grit.

  “I probably would have won,” Janet was saying, “if Rebecca had been my partner. She’s an Olympian, like me, so she has the necessary determination. Unfortunately I had to do everything by myself. And it’s impossible to win such a grueling race without two elite athletes working as a team. Frankly it’s astonishing I almost made it to the finish line, considering my partner sat down several times and refused to move...” Janet’s voice trailed off when she spotted Sharon.

  “So where is your partner now?” Sharon asked. “And since she was so exhausted, why didn’t you leave her the radio?”

  “Monty and Carter were right behind us,” Janet said. “I assumed they’d find her. She said she wanted to sleep for days and that she couldn’t take another step because of her dislocated shoulder.”

  “Allie hurt her shoulder?” Sharon’s guilt morphed into horror. This was worse than she’d thought. “And you left her? Even when she was hurt?”

  “Well, I put her shoulder back in place,” Janet said, crossing her arms. “But it was obvious someone like her could never finish. Actually she did surprisingly well to make it as far as she did. But everyone knew this was a race. And I always compete to win.”

  “But you didn’t win,” Sharon snapped, satisfied that the reporters were noting every word. “In fact, you were completely disoriented. And you begged Monty to let you ride Hawk, saying you were too exhausted to reach the finish line.”

  “Yes, but this race was much too demanding.” Janet’s gaze flickered sideways, gauging everyone’s reaction. “You need to shorten the next one or else map out an easier route. Because if an Olympic gold medalist can’t finish, nobody can.”

  Someone shouted from the direction of the wooden bridge.

  Sharon twisted, staring over the photographer’s shoulder, wondering if a horse was loose. Campers had lost animals to the wildlife refuge before and the horses had never been seen since. There were too many big cats and grizzlies, the rugged land crisscrossed with impassable ravines.

  It wasn’t a horse crossing the rickety bridge though, but a human. A calling woman, half running, half shuffling, with a blood-streaked face, a torn shirt and a dirty lariat coiled over her shoulder. Only the blond hair was recognizable.

  “Allie,” Sharon breathed.

  She pushed aside the photographer and broke into a run, sprinting past a horrified Monty and catching Allie seconds before she collapsed onto the splintered timbers.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “Did you find him?” Allie whispered, staring up at the blur of concerned faces. She recognized Sharon but not the kind-eyed man in the white coat who smelled of coffee and disinfectant. She twisted her head against the pillow and checked the hospital room. Lots of cards and fruit and flowers. But no Carter.

  “Did you find him?” Her arms flailed in panic as she tried to sit up. “Six miles in on the river?”

  “Yes, we did,” Sharon said, grabbing her hand. “The helicopter picked him up yesterday. He’s recovering on another floor. Now lie back and rest. The doctor has an IV in your arm and we don’t want you to rip it out.”

  “He needs antibiotics,” Allie muttered, still struggling to sit up.

  “Yes, you already told us that,” Sharon said. “Several times. Just lie back and rest.”

  Allie shook her head, remembering wisps of conversation dominated by her rush of pure relief when she’d spotted the vehicles by the bridge. She couldn’t remember much after collapsing in Sharon’s arms, only that she’d been focused on sending Carter help and that it had been incredibly hard to form the words. But something else nagged at her.

  Then she remembered...Dwight.

  “Did I tell you about Dwight?” she asked weakly. “What he did?”

  “Yes,” Sharon said. “Bits and pieces. Carter filled in the rest. So there’s nothing more to do except sleep. Please, Allie. That’s your only job now.”

  Allie sighed. Sleep sounded appealing and the timbre of Sharon’s voice was gentle. Her boss had even said “please.” Weird.

  “I’ll be here the whole time,” Sharon went on. “Just know you’re safe. Carter is too.”

  Safe. Allie relaxed, her eyelids drooping. Voices droned around her, talking about dehydration and exhaustion and fever. She could hear the beeping of monitors as someone fiddled with the IV stand. Still, the sounds were reassuring. Even better, her body no longer hurt—not her shoulder or her feet or one single abused muscle. Sharon was lecturing someone, clearly in full boss mode, and she had said Carter was safe. Allie tried to thank Sharon but her tongue was too heavy to wrap around the words. So she slept.

  She woke to the sound of a trolley clanging in the hall and Sharon’s authoritative voice.

  “You can speak to her once she wakes up. She’s still out of it.”

  Allie cracked her eyes open and peered toward the voices. Sharon stood in the doorway, stopping two men from entering.

  “I’m awake,” Allie croaked, surprised by the thinness of her voice. “I’m awake,” she repeated, raising her arm. “Come in.”