His leg wasn’t a consideration. He’d make it, either way. But the baby...with cries echoing through a canyon...

  “We need to stay up high as much as possible, keep distance between us and anyone on the ground hunting and stay low in the brush, behind trees, at least until dark.”

  She nodded. Was already packing things back into the satchel, while he dismantled their pallet. Leaving some pieces strewn about, spreading others around the area outside the culvert.

  “We have to stay out of sight of anyone who could be in the other buildings we saw scattered about the settlement area,” he told her as he returned inside to see her zipping the bag. He was stating the obvious. Thinking out loud.

  Needing to make certain they were completely united on what lay ahead.

  Their lives, the baby’s life, depended on them being so.

  He glanced over at her. “But it stands to reason, with a road leading to blacktop, there could be other homesteads farther down.”

  “Our side of the mountain has them,” Dorian offered. “Just randomly scattered...people wanting to live off the grid.” She reached down, he expected for the baby, saw her take up the blanket instead.

  Watched as she fashioned a sling, tied it around herself.

  “Can you come here?” she asked then, and he wanted to hold back.

  Him and Dorian...with a baby...saving it was one thing...the idea of returning him to his parents, a given.

  But...

  She was waiting. Ducking as the top of the culvert lowered the farther back he went, Scott ended up kneeling beside the woman.

  “We need him freshly changed and fed,” she said then. “He’s going to cry when I wake and change him unless you can distract him with his bottle.”

  She handed the small container—one of the dozen he’d found—to him.

  And he...

  Didn’t take it.

  * * *

  “I’ve, uh, never fed a...baby.”

  Dorian’s hands froze, suspended above the infant, as she looked over at her companion.

  And saw an expression of complete blankness on his face.

  Something so simple, and he—the instructor, the soldier, the FBI agent in charge—was afraid to take a bottle?

  Had no idea what to do? Not even enough to bluff his way through?

  He had to take it on. They had no choice. And no time for a tender family moment.

  “What if I wasn’t here?” she challenged him. “You wouldn’t just let this little one starve to death.”

  She could very well not be there by the next feeding.

  He’d had the wherewithal to grab the formula and the diapers.

  “You want to do the diaper change or the feeding?”

  He took the bottle.

  And when she nodded, nudged it toward the baby’s lips. The little guy suckled, Scott’s big hand suspended above that tiny mouth. Dorian’s fingers shook a little as she got the summer weight sleeper down over the tiny, sporadically moving limbs.

  She and Scott...the baby...her heart was reaching.

  She couldn’t let it.

  Focused her mind on fluid-ounce consumption, keeping track of feeding times, noting the amount of urine in the diaper. The lack of solid waste. Got the job done.

  And then almost wept when she glanced over and caught the expression on Scott Michaels’s face. It was like a painting...the combination of awe, and peace amid days’ growth of whiskers...

  She wanted to just stand there, to watch...to share it with him.

  But he looked up at her, brow raised, eyes steady. Had she imagined the expression?

  Needing it for some reason.

  “You ready to go?” he asked her, the words, so professional sounding, slamming into her. Knocking the nonsense out of her.

  “Of course.”

  With the sling already secured around her, she reached for baby and bottle at the same time, sliding the arm with the baby inside the sling. Settling him there.

  Like the professional she was.

  Scott, the satchel slung over his shoulder, turned, as though to check on her, to make certain she was right behind him.

  And the sound of a dislodged rock, tumbling down the mountainside, echoed around them.

  * * *

  Scott wasn’t gentle about getting himself and Dorian flattened against the wall. They were in place in that first second. Frozen. Listening.

  When no other indication of an intruder came, he motioned her to stay still and made his way to the entrance of the culvert. Dipped his head out just enough to scan the area.

  With his hand down at his thigh, he waved her closer to him. Buried his face in the side of her neck. “I need to get a look over that ledge,” he whispered. And handed her his gun.

  With a nod, she took it.

  And he took the scent of her, the warmth of her soft skin, with him as he lowered himself to the ground, and snakelike, slid out of the culvert.

  Heart pounding, he counted two vehicles down below, at the office building.

  And saw two men climbing up toward the culvert.

  Shoving himself backward, feet first, in the dirt, he stood inside the culvert. “We have to go now,” he whispered, taking Dorian’s arm. “They’re still ten minutes down. The ledge will hide us from their view, but not for long.”

  She didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions, just followed behind him.

  Stepping carefully.

  So close Scott could feel her there.

  Her warmth egged him on to be stronger. More focused. Wiser.

  He let it.

  Keeping their bodies against the side of the mountain, he led them around a wall of rock, staying parallel with the culvert’s entrance. One slow, steady, quiet step at a time. Keeping watch in front of him, while he listened behind.

  Ignoring the pain in his leg.

  The fact that the baby could cry at any time.

  * * *

  With no idea how many people had come back in those two vehicles, he had to assume the area was filled with them.

  Had to assume that McKellips had made his delivery that morning as well.

  And had brought the squadron back to clean up their mess.

  Which meant getting rid of all the evidence.

  Human and otherwise.

  Half an hour of silence, bodies almost touching, they moved forward slowly. Until Scott came to a halt. Bracing himself as Dorian stepped into him.

  He pointed to another small cave, looked for her nod.

  Got them there. And knelt to check the compass on his phone.

  “We’re parallel to where we were,” he told her quietly.

  “You think they saw us?”

  He’d been wondering. “Either that, or in my pained state last night, I left some kind of trail.” He’d been castigating himself silently. Just put it right out there.

  “I should have stayed away,” he told her. “If something happens to either one of you...”

  “It would much more likely have happened already if not for the supplies you brought us.” Dorian’s tone was softer than normal. Warmer.

  More personal.

  “They know that we were there,” she reminded him. “Makes sense they’d search every inch of land that served as possible escape routes.”

  He’d had that thought, too.

  Which meant... “Another team could be heading up here. We have to keep moving. Even if it’s in circles.”

  She nodded. “How’s your leg?”

  “Hurts like hell.” There was no reason to deny the obvious. She’d just think him a liar.

  “How much longer you think the baby’s going to be asleep?” he countered back.

  “We should get another hour, at least.”

  He nodded. Reached in the satchel for the full juice bottle. Handed it to her first. Sipped after her.

  And liked the familiarity of having done so.

  Chapter 15

  Scott was looking a little flushed. Concerned, Dorian reached out to lay the back of her hand against his cheek and neck.

  He stood completely still, staring at her, his jaw tight.

  And she pulled her hand away. She shouldn’t be doing that without a warning or explanation.

  Touching him as though he was hers to touch.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m worried about infection.”

  His gaze dropping from hers, he turned and stepped just outside the small rock inlet, scanning their perimeter. Spent longer looking up at the climb atop the cave than eastward, toward the road. Or south, parallel to the way they’d been traveling.

  “I’m going up,” he told her, stepping back inside. “You and the baby can stay here, in the shade. I’ll take my knife but leave the gun. I’m assuming you know how to shoot?”

  She nodded. “All seven Sierra’s Web partners took training and were certified shortly after opening our firm.” She’d never shot anything but a target, though. And didn’t want that to change.

  Was about to tell him so but he continued. “There’s a ledge about ten feet up, fronted with brush. It’s as perfect a lookout as we’re going to get. With the baby...” He glanced toward the sling tied to her chest and then away, shaking his head. “We can’t hide three of us as easily as one. I need to see if I can figure out what we’re up against. At least get an idea of numbers.”

  The plan made perfect sense. She liked most of it.

  “Fine,” she said, reaching for the tie on the sling. “But I’m going. You stay here with the baby.”

  His mouth dropped open as he stared at her.

  As though she’d been speaking a foreign language.

  His gaze moved to her fingers untying the sling. “Wait, what are you doing? No.”

  She didn’t argue, just continued to implement her plan.

  “You’ll make him cry,” he said then. “We need him quiet.”

  “If you’ll come over here and let me get him tied to you, the chances of him staying asleep are excellent. The warmth and heartbeat emulate the mother’s womb. Most any human would do.” Not entirely factual, the any human part, but pretty close.

  He didn’t move.

  “You’re flushed, Scott. Whether you like it or not. You aren’t superhuman. You had an untreated open flesh wound for hours and were climbing and sliding in dirt, among other things. An elevated temperature indicates infection. You need to stay out of the sun for a bit and rest your leg. I can carry one guy on this journey. I can’t carry two.”

  With a nod he handed the gun to her.

  She took it. Set it down while she stepped up to Scott, facing him. Thigh to thigh, and, holding the baby between them, his weight being supported by both of their chests, she transferred the sling ties from her hands to Scott’s. Stood there, helping to hold the baby while he secured the infant against him.

  When the newborn was settled and showing no signs of waking, she picked the gun back up. Put it in the waistband of her pants and pulled her shirt down over it.

  Glanced up to see Scott glancing at the strip of belly she’d just exposed.

  As though he could find any part of her dirty, ponytailed hair, bruised jaw and unshowered body the least bit attractive.

  “Keep your back covered at all times,” he told her as she stepped up to the cave’s entrance. Glancing back at him, she nodded.

  And for a second or two, couldn’t look away.

  He didn’t either.

  It was as though he was urging her not to go.

  But she had to.

  And his silence told her that they both knew it.

  * * *

  The doc had told him to rest his leg.

  He needed the baby to stay asleep.

  Chomping to get his ass out of the cave and take on whoever was hunting them, Scott put his two most immediate challenges first, and, with the baby snuggled against him—curiously, not a horrible situation—he slid his back down the cave wall, as close to the entrance as he could get and remain in the shade, and sat.

  Knife in one hand.

  As a gatekeeper, his abilities were strictly limited, but he was at least able to see enough of the flat ground in the inlet outside the cave to keep watch from all approachable directions. And he was in a knife’s throw distance if someone was unlucky enough to enter the area.

  His leg throbbed. He hoped to God infection wasn’t setting in.

  And if it was, he’d have the good doc lance it and they’d move on.

  There weren’t any other options.

  That throbbing, feeling as though it was in tandem with his heart, became like a metronome as he sat there. Counting beats until Dorian returned.

  Senses acutely tuned, he listened for any movement of loose rock. The crack of a twig. A breath that didn’t belong to him or the baby.

  The hour was nearly up and Scott was standing, preparing to head up the mountain, baby and all, to find Dorian when she quietly appeared in his line of vision. She was on her belly, sliding over a ledge of rock at the edge of their little inlet clearing.

  Her forearms were scraped. Bleeding lightly in a couple of places. Her elbows, too.

  With her back flat against the mountain’s rock wall, she stood and slid her way along to the cave.

  He stepped back as she ducked in.

  Sweat dripped off both sides of her jaw, and her clothes were splotched with dirt and dust. Her ponytail loose, falling to one side, she said, “Good call. The view was just what you would have hoped.”

  As though she’d just taken a two-minute stroll to glance over the edge of a mountain into a valley for the spectacular view.

  If he’d been anyone else, and not on the job, he’d have hauled her up against him and the baby and kissed her right then. Right there.

  Danger looming and all.

  He handed her the juice bottle. She took it, but said, “I had juice up there while I lay watching.”

  Of course, she had. Dorian, always the doctor, could be counted on to tend to the needs at hand.

  The circumstance might have put Scott off, threatened his masculinity even, if he wasn’t finding the woman’s abilities so incredibly attractive.

  If he hadn’t been smart enough to recognize their value and be thankful for them.

  He saw her taking in the baby’s face, and his breathing and posture, too, he figured. “I managed not to upset him,” he told her.

  “You’d have managed to take care of his needs if he woke up, too,” she shot back, sitting down.

  With the baby still attached to him, finding himself comfortable enough moving around with the small body tied to his chest, Scott went for the first aid kit.

  Not the one they’d taken from the four-wheeler, but the much larger, stocked one he’d found at the mission. A soft-sided canvas zipper bag that had slid naturally into the leather satchel. Grabbing antibiotic cleaning wipes and salve, he approached Dorian.

  She reached for them. “I can do that.”

  “You can’t even see them all,” he told her, sitting down directly in front of her. “I don’t have a medical degree, but I think I can manage this,” he held up his little stash. “Did you see anything?”

  He couldn’t just hang out in a cave like a sitting duck. He had lives to save.

  Had to get moving.

  Needed information to determine their next steps.

  Dorian watched as he took first one arm, and then the other, cleaning every abrasion carefully. He didn’t worry about passing muster under the supervision of a medical professional. He might not be versed on removing bullets from flesh, but he knew how to clean a wound.

  After a couple of minutes, she seemed to be satisfied on that point and said, “I could see the compound where the mission was. Better with the phone camera. Took a bunch of shots for you. I think those two vehicles are the only two there. I saw two guys, didn’t recognize either, have pictures of them for you, as well, walking up higher than our cave. I’m hoping that means that they didn’t realize we were there.”

  “Or they knew we were but figure we’re trying to get back out the way we came. Over the mountain. Better the evil you know, and all.” He uncapped the salve, focusing on her words, not on how soft the skin was beneath his fingers. “Anything else?”

  He needed more. What, he didn’t know. Just didn’t like the idea of having sent her up into danger only to bring back what they’d basically already known.

  Other than a lack of any other obvious vehicles in the compound. That was good news.

  And Lord knew, they could use some.

  “I saw a place, a mile or two south of here...there were animals. Cattle, or something. A couple of roofs. And just looking out east, toward Globe, there were a few other scattered roofs, probably half a mile apart or more. Not in any kind of settlement or configuration. Just randomly stuck in the mountains.”

  He stopped, salve-dipped cotton round in hand, and looked at her. Filling with a much-needed burst of adrenaline.

  “Did they look occupied?”

  Her shrug didn’t deter him much. “I couldn’t really tell. But even if they’re not, if we can get into any one of them, we might find more supplies. Or even some running water, assuming there’s a working well...”

  “And if they are, we have to be cognizant of the fact that any one of them could be employed by the general.”

  She nodded, without any hint of surprise.

  As usual, they appeared to be already on the same page.

  He kept thinking at some point there’d be a fork in their road. That their ideas and opinions would diverge.

  “I zoomed in with the phone and checked every inch of land south of here,” she said then, naming the direction they’d been traveling that day. “I saw no sign of any life at all. I’m really thinking those two guys earlier...they might be the only two.”