Mountain Midwife

His leather jacket wasn’t the best thing to be wearing in this weather, but he wasn’t cold. The opposite, in fact. He was sweating like a pig. Though breathing hard, he couldn’t seem to get enough wind in his lungs. After only going a couple of hundred yards, his shoulders ached. His thigh muscles were burning. This high elevation was killing him. He estimated that they were more than eight thousand feet above sea level. What the hell was a California guy like him doing here? His natural habitat was palm trees.

He picked his way through the rugged trunks of pine trees and dodged around boulders. After he climbed over a fallen log, he turned to help Rachel. She had the baby in the sling, tucked inside her parka.

She ignored his outstretched hand and jumped over the log, nimble as a white-tailed deer.

“Careful,” he said.

“I’m good.”

Her energy annoyed him. Logically, he knew that Rachel lived here full-time and was acclimated to the altitude. But he wanted to be the strong one—the protector who would lead her and the baby to safety.

Hoping to buy a little time to catch his breath, he asked, “How’s Goldie?”

Rachel peeked inside her parka. “Sleeping. She’s snuggled against my chest and can hear my heartbeat. It probably feels like she’s still in the womb.”

They needed to find shelter soon. It couldn’t be good for a newborn to be exposed to the cold.

“I have a question,” she said. “Why are we going uphill?”

“Escape.”

“If we go down to the road, we’ll be more likely to find a cabin. Or we could flag down a passing car.”

He looked down the hill. The lights from the house were barely visible. “We’re going this way because we can’t risk having the guys who attacked the house find us. They’ll be watching the road.”

“They’ll be looking for us? Why?”

If the gunmen worked for Baron, they wouldn’t leave without the boss man’s baby. If they were Baron’s enemies, the same rationale applied. Goldie was a valuable commodity. “It’s not us they’re after.”

Her arm curled protectively around the infant. “The police ought to be here soon. Somebody must have reported all that gunfire.”

It was too soon to expect a response from his GPS signal, but he trusted that the FBI was closing in on this location. “Nothing would please me more than hearing cop sirens.”

“You can’t mean that.” Her earnest gaze confronted him. “You’ll be taken into custody.”

He’d almost forgotten that she still didn’t know his identity. As far as Rachel was concerned, he was the guy who kidnapped her at gunpoint. An armed robber.

“If I got arrested, would you be heartbroken?”

She exhaled a puff of icy vapor. “No.”

“Maybe a little sad?”

“Let me put it this way. I wouldn’t turn you in.”

Her response surprised him. He had her pegged as a strictly law-abiding citizen who’d be delighted to see any criminal behind bars. But she was willing to make an exception for him. Either she liked him or she had a dark side that she kept hidden.

He turned to face the uphill terrain. “We’ll keep moving until we know we’re safe. Then we can double back to the road.”

The brief rest had allowed him to recover his strength. He slogged onward, wanting to put distance between them and the men with guns. In spite of the burn, his legs took on a steady rhythm as he climbed. Coming through a stand of trees, he realized that they’d reached the highest point on the hill. He maneuvered until he was standing on a boulder and waited for Rachel to join him.

“This is a good lookout point. Do you see anything?”

Together, they peered through the curtain of trees. The snowfall was thick. Heavy clouds had blocked out the light from the moon and stars.

“There.” She pointed down the hill.

The beams of a couple of flashlights flickered in the darkness. They weren’t far away. Maybe eighty yards. He and Rachel were within range of their semiautomatic weapons.

He ducked. She did the same.

The searchers were too close. His hope for escape vanished in the howling wind that sliced through the tree trunks. He and Rachel had left tracks in the snow that a blind man could follow. Peering over the edge of the boulder, he saw the flashlights moving closer. There was only one way out of this.

He slipped his arms out of the backpack. “Take the baby and run. Get as far away from here as you can.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll distract them.”

Going up against men with superior firepower wasn’t as dumb as it sounded. Cole had the advantage of higher ground. If he waited until they got close, he might be able to take out one of them before the other responded.

“There’s something you haven’t considered,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Snow.”

While they’d been climbing, the full force of the impending blizzard had gathered. The storm had taken on a fierce intensity.

She grabbed his arm and tugged. “They won’t be able to see us in the blizzard. The wind will cover our tracks.”

Great. He wouldn’t die in a hail of bullets. He’d freeze to death in a blizzard.

“Come on,” she urged. “I need you. Goldie needs you.”

He shouldered the pack again. Going downhill should have been easier, but his knees jolted with every step. At the foot of the slope, they approached an open area where the true velocity of the storm was apparent. The snow fell in sheets. His visibility was cut to only a few yards, but he figured they could cover more distance if they went straight ahead instead of weaving through the trees.

When he stepped into the open, he sank up to his knees. His jeans were wet. His fingers and toes were numb.

“Stay close to the trees,” Rachel said. “It’s not as deep.”

At the edge of the forest, the snow was over his ankles. He trudged through it, making a path for her to follow. One minute turned into ten. Ten into twenty. Inside his boots, his feet felt like frozen blocks of ice. The snow stung his cheeks. So cold, so damned cold. If he was this miserable what was happening to Goldie? Fear for the motherless newborn kept him moving forward. He had to protect this child, had to find shelter.

But he’d lost all sense of direction in the snow. As far as he could tell, they might be heading back toward the house.

Trying to get his bearings, he looked over his shoulder. He doubted that the bad guys were still in pursuit. Any sane person would have turned back by now.

As Rachel had predicted, the snows were already drifting, neatly erasing their tracks.