Stolen Moments

At the open doorway she stopped to look out. Snow. It shone, silver-white against the dark of night; it covered the ground as far as she could see. Whoever had opened the door didn’t seem to be around anymore, but nearby a helicopter waited.

The cowboy took hold of her the moment they stepped onto the frozen ground and drew her toward the chopper, his hand clamped firmly around her upper arm, his body pressed against her side.

She looked around, hoping there would be other people, someone she could call to for help. But the airstrip was empty and a large white expanse of open field ran for a good mile in the direction of the lights of the town. The only building, the hangar, sat dark and empty.

As she neared the whirring blades of the helicopter, wind spun the fallen snow, showering her in white ice-cold powder. The door opened and she was pushed up into a seat behind the pilot. Her kidnapper slid in next to her, his thigh against hers in the tight confines of the chopper.

Before she could buckle up, the helicopter lifted off, spinning away into the night. She pressed herself to the side window, pulling away from him. All she could see below was the shine of the snow broken occasionally by the dark fringe of the evergreens and the rise and fall of mountains as the chopper skimmed low over them.

Without a word, he reached across to snap her seat belt closed, forcing her to touch him again.

His closeness assaulted her senses. But this time, his male scent evoked memories of the kidnapping, the same way his muscled thigh against her leg reminded her how easily he could overpower her. The images danced before her. Pouring rain. Darkness. His arms clamped around her and the helplessness she’d felt as he’d dragged her away from her car, away from her life.

She looked back. The lights of the town were gone. Slowly she turned to stare ahead again into the darkness, her heartbeat a deafening roar in her ears. Tears blurred her eyes as sobs rose in her throat, choking her. She’d been kidnapped. The ramifications had finally hit home. All her bravado, all her control, all her toughness deserted her. She was afraid, ice-in-the-veins afraid.

* * *

THEY WEREN’T IN THE AIR but a few minutes when the helicopter dropped low, hovered for a moment, then set down in a cloud of whirling snow.

“Ladies first,” her cowboy kidnapper said as he leaned over to open her door.

She glanced at the pilot, but immediately changed her mind about making a desperate attempt to gain his help. The man had to be in on this.

She reached down, her fingers fumbling with the seat belt buckle. Suddenly the cowboy’s hands covered hers and she felt the buckle release. No more stalling. This was it.

She slid out of the seat and down, tom between the fears that he planned to leave her out here alone and that he was coming with her. He stepped down beside her, grasping her arm again as he leaned over her, shielding her from the pounding ice crystals as the chopper lifted off.

Within moments the whir of its blades died away, as did the lights of the helicopter. She waited for the darkness to close in. But it didn’t. An almost full moon rose above the low-hanging clouds, illuminating them and casting an eerie light across the snow. In that strange light, she could see that they’d landed in a small, isolated meadow. Past it, she could see nothing but snow, pine trees and mountains. No sign of life. Except for the man beside her.

Her pulse drummed in her ears as she looked over at him, and she felt her first real sense of hysteria since she’d been abducted. She hadn’t been alone with this man in the jet. Or the helicopter. But now, in this isolated part of some backwoods, she was completely alone with her kidnapper. It hit her with such force, her knees threatened to give way beneath her. What did he plan to do with her now?

Next to her, he stood, his head cocked as if listening. Then his attention swung to her. “Come on.” He took her hand and she trudged in his wake, wading through the fallen snow, trying to keep up and, at the same time, see where she was going. The country looked wild and unsettled. She hated to imagine where he might be taking her.

Then he topped a small rise and she saw the cabin. It loomed up out of the darkness, a small A-frame, as picturesque as a ski lodge in the Swiss Alps.

He’d told her she’d find out everything at the cabin, but no lights shone from the windows, no smoke curled up from the chimney, nor did any tracks mar the snow. It didn’t look as if anyone were home. Had he lied to her just to get her up here without a fight? She doubted that as she followed him across the meadow. He’d also threatened to drug her again. She didn’t doubt he would have gotten her here one way or the other.

By the time Levi reached the front steps of the cabin, she just hoped it was warm and dry inside. She didn’t think past that, afraid to.

She followed the cowboy up the untracked snowy steps to the front deck. He seemed to hesitate at the door. She followed his gaze to a ramp off one end of the deck. It too was covered in fresh, unblemished snow.

She watched him frown as he looked back at the steps, as if he’d also noticed the lack of tracks and was bothered by it. Then he tried the door. It opened in his hand. She saw him reach inside and an instant later, a light came on. He quickly stepped in and pulled her in behind him.

The cabin was old-fashioned, quaint, although definitely male. She wondered if it was his, and hoped it was because the place made her believe that the man who lived here wasn’t dangerous.

He left her standing in the middle of the room. Not that he ever really let her out of his sight as he opened the doors to each of the rooms, seeming to look for something. Or someone.

The clock on the wall said it was only eight forty-five and yet she felt exhausted. Had it been less than five hours since her father had made a toast at their Thanksgiving dinner on the ranch?

She realized her kidnapper had stopped searching the rooms. He stood looking at her, frowning, his gaze obviously troubled.

“What is it?” she asked, her fear rising.

He shook his head, turned and began rummaging through drawers, pulling out items, which he thrust into his backpack. That relaxed Texas cowboy on the jet was gone; this man was anxious and on alert. She watched in alarm as he threw things into the backpack, including a pistol, then ushered her out the front door again, closing it behind them.

He stopped on the deck, appearing to listen again, then without warning, swung her up into his arms and took one long-legged step to the corner of the small deck. He lowered her to the ground below.

What in the world?

“Don’t move,” he ordered in a whisper before he jumped down beside her. She watched him break off a limb from a nearby pine tree, urging her to walk across the open space beyond the A-frame toward the darkness. Behind them, he began to brush the fresh snow over their tracks.

Levi stared ahead into the wall of dark pines, cold and sick inside. Where was he taking her now?

Once in the dense trees, he took the lead again, drawing her deeper into their seclusion as the land rose sharply. She climbed until she thought her lungs would burst from the high altitude and cold.

By the time another structure appeared, the cold and the climb had zapped her energy. She was tired and ready to quit walking. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard, although he’d been the one bucking the deep, soft snow, making somewhat of a trail for her.

The dark edge of a log structure materialized out of the night and the pines. Slowly it took shape. Rustic. Small. Isolated. Barely a shack. More like a four-sided lean-to. Nothing like the A-frame they’d left behind.

She didn’t realize she’d stopped walking until she felt the tug on her arm.

“Hey,” he said, and stepped so close to her that he forced out the night air. She stared down at his gloved hand on hers. “It’s not the Hilton, but it’ll be warmer and drier than out here.”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her throat felt swollen with the tears she’d held at bay. All she could think about was what he planned to do to her in there. It was the kind of place that might already have bodies buried under the worn floorboards—if it had a floor at all.

Her kidnapper lifted her chin until she was looking directly up under the brim of the Stetson and straight into his shadowed face. She couldn’t see his eyes but she could feel his heated gaze.

“Look, I know you’re cold and tired,” he said, as if she were simply rebelling against the accommodations. He must have felt her trembling. “You can warm up here and rest.”

It was the most he’d said to her in hours. But it was the tone that made her want to cry. Why was he being so nice now?

From inside the backpack, he took out a large flashlight, but he didn’t turn it on.

Levi glanced in the direction they’d come. She could see the lights the cowboy had left on in the cabin below them. They cast a gentle glow across the snow, making the winter scene warm and inviting. Why had he made her walk all the way up this mountainside?

He opened the shack door, seemed to listen for a moment, then motioned for her to follow. It wasn’t until they were inside that he turned on the flashlight.

Her heart sank as she saw that the one room was pretty much as she’d feared it would be: empty, except for years of dust, an old table, a couple of mismatched chairs and a cot.

His look brought the fear back in a heartbeat. “You can lie down over there,” he said, motioning to the cot. He reached into the backpack for a wool blanket and tossed it to her.

She swallowed hard. “What do you want with me?” Her voice broke and she hated the vulnerability she heard in it.

He stepped to her, letting the beam of the flashlight bore into the dusty worn wood at their feet as he gazed down at her. When he spoke his voice was soft, almost compassionate, but behind the words was an urgency, a warning. “I just want you to sit quietly until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?”

She nodded and stepped past him to the cot, her heart aching for her family, for home. How long would she have to stay in this cabin with this man? Or would he ever let her leave here?

The flashlight went out, plunging them into a chilly, thick darkness. She waited for her eyes to adjust, telling herself this might be her chance. Maybe, if she could use one of the cot legs as a weapon...