Surrender: A Bitter Creek Novel Page 3

  She’d shivered. “I was so alone. I never want to feel like that again.”

  Remembering the look on her face, Brian set down his Pulaski, then took off his headlamp and arranged it on her forehead. “Take this and go on inside. I need to report that we’re on the ground and where we’re holed up, so they can find us later, and collect the rest of the supplies from the cargo box. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “All right. Please hurry, Brian.”

  He had to hand it to her. She might look and sound scared, but Tag was a trooper. She dropped to her knees and shoved everything through the hole ahead of her, before she flattened onto her stomach and slithered into the narrow opening.

  He’d just started up the rock face above the tunnel, in hopes of getting better radio reception, when he heard an earsplitting crraaaaccck.

  Brian saw a gigantic, 200-foot spruce begin to fall, its trunk massive enough to seal the cave opening. He didn’t think, he just reacted. He tripped and dropped the radio as he scrambled back down the rock, but there was no time to retrieve it. He ran full tilt for the tunnel and dove inside, just as the mighty tree, limbs on fire, crashed to the ground in a horrendous cacophony of breaking branches and crackling flames. The colossal spruce shut out what little sunlight had made it through the smoke, leaving them trapped in the pitch-black cave…with no way out.

  “BRIAN?” TAYLOR’S HEART racketed in her chest as the cave suddenly became the dark, suffocating closet she’d been locked in as a child. She focused the bright stream of light from her headlamp where she thought the tunnel entrance should be and watched Brian drop onto the parachute that lay where it had fallen when he’d first entered the cave.

  She hurried over to help him to his feet. “What happened?”

  “A tree came down and sealed up the entrance.”

  Taylor stared in horror at the smoldering, fire-blackened branches intruding through the narrow opening. “We’re trapped?”

  Brian grimaced, his expression providing all the response necessary.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked.

  “No.” He turned to look at the blocked opening, shaking his head and swearing under his breath.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m just pissed off. I had to leave a bunch of stuff out there when that tree came down, including my ax, which I could have used to hack a way back out of here.” He hesitated, then added with disgust, “I lost the radio.”

  “But you called them—”

  “I didn’t have time.”

  Taylor’s lungs couldn’t seem to suck air. She gasped and said, “They don’t know where we are?”

  “They have the last location you gave them.”

  “But we’re miles from there!”

  “They’ll take that into account when they start their search.”

  “How are they going to find us down here?” she cried, turning in a circle within the cave, hoping against hope for some sliver of light, some breath of fresh air. “They won’t even know there is a cave unless that tree burns up!” She crossed to Brian, focused the light on his sooty face and asked, “Is there any chance it will? Burn enough to reveal the opening, I mean?”

  Brian shook his head. “Probably not. Now that it’s on the ground, once the grass around it burns away, the trunk will likely stop burning, too.”

  Taylor put a hand to her heart, which was battering against her ribs. “So we’re really, truly trapped in here?”

  “You’re shivering.”

  “I’m cold. So cold.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “I’m scared!” she retorted. “We’re trapped and it’s dark and—”

  His arms closed around her, pulling her snug against powerful muscle and sinew. “We’re alive, Tag. We survived.”

  “You’re trembling, too, Brian.”

  “Yeah. Well. Shit. I made a jury-rigged tandem jump with you into a pea-sized meadow surrounded by fire and didn’t get either one of us killed. A grizzly attacked me, and I walked away unscathed. A tree nearly crushed me flat, but here I am. I think I’m entitled.”

  She felt him quiver as he pressed his face against her neck.

  “It’s just adrenaline,” he muttered, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. “Too much adrenaline.”

  Her arms slid around his neck offering comfort, and she pressed her body close, seeking support in return. “I can’t believe we didn’t end up burning to cinders.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. That’s kind of a nightmare of mine.”

  She shuddered. They could have died. They still might. She suddenly sobbed and whispered, “Brian.”

  He lifted his head to look into her eyes.

  She had time to notice his pupils were dilated so wide his blue eyes were nearly black, before he shoved the light off her head. She heard it clatter to the stone beneath them and saw a splash of light hit the dirt wall as his mouth found hers. She wasn’t sure who was more desperate for the life-affirming contact, but their mouths clung as his tongue came searching for solace.

  Her hands shoved at the suspenders holding up his Kevlar pants, forcing them off his shoulders, then reached for his T-shirt, yanking it up and out of the way, wanting to feel the warmth of his living flesh, proof they were both still alive.

  He tore at the buttons on her shirt and thrust it off her shoulders, then released her bra clasp and removed the last thing keeping their naked bodies apart.

  They stood cleaved to each other, panting.

  It wasn’t close enough. Not for her. And not for him, either, because he unsnapped her jeans and shoved down the zipper, even as she tugged at his Kevlar pants, pushing them down to reach the metal buttons on his jeans. Their boots stayed on, and their trousers tangled at their ankles.

  He backed her in short steps to the pile of nylon on the ground and tumbled them onto it. She felt his desperation as he stripped down her panties, even as she tore at his briefs.

  A moment later he was inside her and they were joined. It was a simple confirmation that he was man, she was woman, and they were alive. The sex was carnal. Animalistic. Savage and satisfying.

  She cried out, her body clenching around his as he threw his head back with a guttural sound of triumph, a vocal celebration of the simple joy of having survived.

  He sank onto her, his weight surprisingly comforting, solid and strong. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close, not wanting to let go, not wanting the moment of mindless release to end.

  A moment later, he rolled onto his back and slung an arm across his face. He heaved a sigh. Started to speak. Stopped, then said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “I needed you. And you needed me. We needed each other, Brian.”

  She suddenly felt very much alone. She wanted to reach out to him but lacked the confidence to act. The adrenaline—and fear—that had forced them together seemed to have dissipated.

  She shivered, and he must have noticed, because he said, “We’d better get dressed.”

  He suited word to deed. He kicked off his Kevlar pants, then pulled up his shorts and jeans, lifting his hips to get them over his butt. He stood and said, “Did you see where I threw my T-shirt?”

  Taylor covered her breasts with her hands, suddenly aware of her nakedness, like Eve in the Garden of Eden, when she realized she’d sinned.

  What had just happened? How had it happened? She’d just made love—had sex—with Brian Flynn!

  She was staring into the darkness when she felt something drop into her lap.

  “Your bra,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find your shirt.”

  Well, if he wasn’t going to make a big deal about what had just happened, neither was she.

  Taylor glanced at Brian to make sure his back was turned, then slipped on her bra. By the time he returned
with her shirt hanging over his arm, she’d pulled up her panties and jeans and was on her feet.

  “Thanks.” When she tried to take the shirt from him, he settled the lamp back on her head and held on, forcing her to look at him.

  “Tag, I…I’ve heard about things like what just happened to us occurring in a crisis. I should have recognized what it was and—”

  “What was it, Brian? Because it felt like pretty good sex to me.”

  She saw his disappointment at her attempt to downplay their need for human contact—for each other—in such a desperate moment.

  He rested his palm on her cheek. “It was comfort, Tag. Proof that we’re both still here and kicking. Nothing more.” He hesitated before adding, “And nothing less.”

  She heaved a sigh. “What happened was just so…unexpected.”

  “I know. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  She managed a crooked smile and said, “For what it’s worth, I’m not.”

  “WHY DON’T WE cook that steak I brought along,” Brian suggested. “I’m hungry. How about you?”

  It took a moment for Taylor to realize she was famished. She’d been so busy dropping smoke jumpers all day she’d missed both lunch and dinner. “I could eat a bite or two.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest to steady nerves that were still on edge, as Brian dug a fire pit with his Swiss army knife in a spot that was mostly dirt. He used paper from a small notebook he’d brought along and shavings from limbs that weren’t burned through for kindling, and added a few thicker branches on top from the charred tree that blocked the entrance. He lit the fire with a match from the tin he’d carried in his PG bag.

  “You made that look easy,” Taylor said.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m as good at starting fires as I am at putting them out.”

  Taylor couldn’t believe he was joking at a time like this. Her composure was rattled, and she was barely holding herself together. But if Brian could conquer his fear, so could she. “What can I do to help?”

  “Check my bag. See if you can find that potato wrapped in foil. When the fire’s hot enough, we’ll throw it on the coals.”

  “Steak and a baked potato? On a fire line? Who knew?”

  “You forgot about the pork and beans.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not my favorite.”

  “Sorry the menu is so limited, but food is food. Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of it. So, no beans tonight. At some point, we’re going to have to take inventory and figure out how much—or little—we can eat every day. While you’re scrounging, see if you can find the skillet I dropped in there when I was cleaning out the pockets of my Kevlar trousers.”

  She held it up and shook her head in disbelief. “For heaven’s sake, Brian. You brought along a frying pan?”

  He lifted a dark brow. “You expected me to impale my steak on a stick and hold it over the fire like some Neanderthal? We smoke jumpers are civilized human beings.”

  She laughed as she handed him the pan and lobbed the foil-wrapped potato at him. “This is ridiculous. All of this.” She turned in a circle, her hands widespread. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re going to have a steak dinner in a cave where we’re trapped with no way out.”

  “I haven’t investigated the rest of our humble abode yet,” Brian said. “I noticed it narrows at the other end, but I was only looking for more wildlife. There may, in fact, be another way out.”

  Taylor turned to study the opposite end of the cave. It was murky and musky-smelling. She felt Brian’s hand on her shoulder, before he turned her and gently urged her into his embrace.

  “There’s no sense worrying now, Tag,” he murmured. “We can’t go anywhere until the fire outside dies down. Meanwhile, we’re both safe.”

  Taylor laid her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart thumping hard and fast beneath his T-shirt, so he wasn’t as calm as he wanted her to think. She hoped he couldn’t tell how distraught she was. She’d flown a lot of smoke jumpers in life-threatening conditions, and staying cool in an emergency was one of her best qualities.

  Besides, it wasn’t the idea of being trapped that was freaking her out. It was the idea of being trapped in the dark. “Am I wearing the only headlamp?”

  He ducked down under the light and looked her in the eye. “Afraid so.”

  “How long do these batteries last?”

  She was surprised when Brian answered with a precise number. “Twenty-two hours on high beam—”

  She turned to face him directly, and he squinted as the light hit him in the eyes. “That’s less than a day!”

  “And a hundred and sixty hours on low,” he finished.

  Taylor backed out of his arms. She tried to do the math in her head but was too anxious to think clearly. “How many days is that?”

  “Six for sure. Maybe seven, if the batteries last as long as they’re supposed to last. Those have been in there for a while.”

  “These batteries aren’t new?”

  “No.”

  Taylor realized the numbers had been on the tip of Brian’s tongue because he’d need to know that information when he and his team were left in the wilderness for days at a time fighting a fire. She had a sudden thought and asked, “Do we have more batteries?”

  “I’ve got four more in my PG bag.”

  Taylor didn’t speak the unspeakable. If they weren’t found before the extra set of batteries wore out, she would be alone with Brian in the dark until they were. Her stomach did a quick somersault but didn’t land on its feet. She felt queasy. Surely they would be able to figure out some way to get out of here. Or they’d be found.

  It occurred to her that they would be turning the lamp off when they were asleep, so maybe six days could be stretched to twelve. Or maybe fourteen. And they had time left on these batteries.

  She had another thought that put an ironic, idiotic grin on her face, a sure sign of how out of it she was. We’re probably going to starve to death, or die of thirst, long before the batteries wear out.

  Taylor hadn’t said she needed reassurance, but Brian’s strong arms folded around her again. She released an anxious breath as she pressed her cheek against his and slid her arms around his waist. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. They simply stood there and held each other.

  She was reminded of why she’d liked Brian so much in high school. He was the one boy who’d always held her after sex. Taylor wondered what had made him do something so wonderful, something that, in her experience, wasn’t typical teenage-boy behavior. Especially since there had never been anything like love involved in their brief relationship. Well, Brian might have said the word “love” once upon a time, but she hadn’t believed him.

  It was a wonder they’d stayed together as long as they had. Three months was an eternity to a fifteen-year-old girl, especially since Taylor had never been good at keeping a boyfriend. Her twin had accused her of dropping the boys she dated, like half-eaten apples, before the thought of dropping her could form in their minds.

  “I’m just cutting my losses,” she told Vick in her defense. “It wouldn’t have lasted anyway.” As far as Taylor was concerned, it was better to be the one leaving than the one being left.

  With his black hair and blue eyes, his broad shoulders and athletic build, she’d thought Brian Flynn was hot. When she’d mentioned that fact in the kitchen one night, her eldest sister, Leah, had told her in no uncertain terms, “Stay away from him. Don’t speak to him. Don’t even look at him. He’s trouble you don’t need.”

  Leah had good reason for the warning. Their father, King Grayhawk, and Brian’s father, Angus Flynn, had been mortal enemies for more years than anyone could count. Their battle had been taken up by the four youngest Grayhawk girls, better known around Jackson Hole as King’s Brats, and Angus�
�s four boys.

  What had begun as pranks played on one another—shaving a patch of hair from a competition 4-H cow or putting salt in a competition 4-H cherry pie—had graduated, as they became teenagers, to letting the air out of all four tires or encasing an entire truck in Saran wrap in below-zero temperatures. Until finally, it had morphed into something more hazardous—like sliced saddle cinches during a junior rodeo competition that had resulted in a broken arm for Taylor’s youngest sister, Eve, and a broken leg for Brian’s eldest brother, Aiden.

  Needless to say, there was no love lost between Grayhawks and Flynns when Taylor had turned her eyes toward Brian. But Leah telling her to stay away from him was like telling her not to touch a hot stove. She had to test it, to see if it really was going to burn her.

  She watched Brian roughhouse with his jock friends on the way to class. Watched him attack his sack lunch in the cafeteria. Sat in the stands during football practice and watched him run wind sprints. He must have noticed all that attention, because he started saying, “Hi,” whenever they passed each other in the hall. She put her nose in the air and pretended she wasn’t interested.

  One day, he didn’t let her get away with walking past him. He stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “Hi.”

  Nothing more. Nothing to make it any easier for her. Heart slamming against her rib cage, she glanced up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her most successful flirting technique.

  He didn’t let her get away with that, either. He slid a forefinger under her chin and lifted her face so she was forced to meet his gaze. “I said, ‘Hi.’ ”

  She felt a blush rising and had no idea how to stop it. “Hi.” It came out sounding like some movie starlet, whispery and breathless.

  His lips tilted in a lopsided smile. “Now that I have your attention, how about going out with me on Friday night?”

  She jerked free. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed. How about it?”

  “You’re a—”

  “Flynn,” he finished for her. “So what? I’ve always thought this whole feud thing was ridiculous. I don’t see why we have to be a part of it.”