A Night Without End

“Are you in the habit of marrying strangers?” he teased, a gleam in his eyes softening his face.

“Obviously I’ve picked up some bad habits.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Now, why don’t I find that hard to believe?” she muttered, wondering how he’d changed the subject so smoothly. But she refused to let him distract her. “If you’re my husband, then start acting like it. I want some answers and I’d like them now. Please.”

“My cabin…our cabin,” he corrected himself, “is around the next bend. We can talk there.”

He set off without waiting for her agreement, once again leaving her to either tag along after him or not. Her blood sizzled at his refusal to answer simple questions. For a moment she considered hiking back to where the trails separated and heading into town and the nearest phone.

But Marvin, Tyler and Roger had gone ahead with Jackson’s body. She shuddered at the welcome she imagined they would give her if she showed up alone. Her other alternative was to remain here and freeze—not too appealing. The sun had begun a rapid descent behind the mountain’s summit, shadows lengthened and the temperature dropped ten degrees. She could only guess how cold the night would become, and not even her hot temper would keep her warm.

Furious, she stomped off after Sean, slipped around a bend and almost bumped into him. He didn’t appear the least bit sheepish or surprised to be caught waiting for her.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he steadied her. “Slow down. This last stretch is the steepest.”

He didn’t exaggerate. The trail took a forty-five-degree bend downward. The remains of last winter’s snow had compacted into a sheet of ice and clung to the mountainside. If he hadn’t waited for her, she might have tumbled down the steep incline face-first.

“I don’t want you to open up that knot on your head.”

“Thanks.”

Maybe a hard fall would knock some sense into her. Or better still, bring her memories back. She had no business traipsing down the mountainside alone. Carlie was a city girl—the closest she got to camping was the Holiday Inn. But then Sean would know of her limited ability to survive in the wild, so he had no business leaving her to fend for herself. A bear could get her.

Before she lost hold of her temper once again, she forced herself to think. Maybe she’d learned some new wilderness skills in the last two years and had now forgotten them. She couldn’t keep making assumptions as if those two years hadn’t happened and then blame Sean for treating her for the tenderfoot she had been and now was again.

Besides, she had other problems to worry about. She’d been accused of murder. Sean’s cabin might end up being more prison than sanctuary, and it was only a matter of time before the authorities placed her under arrest.

She gazed up into his face, searched his eyes that flickered with a glint of humor amid the concern, and sensed he would treat her fairly. He wouldn’t let a mob string her up. She’d be safe with him.

With no warning, Sean yanked her against him, pulled her off balance and toppled backward toward the ledge.

“Hey—”

Her protest died in her throat as he locked his arms around her back so tightly, she had difficulty drawing a breath. With the force of a tidal wave, he hurled them over the precipice.

She braced for a jolting crash, but they landed with only a minor bump. But they were sliding. Sliding.

Wind whistled in her ears. Hair wrapped around her eyes, blocking her vision. Had he gone crazy, throwing himself over the cliff’s edge and taking her with him? Was he trying to kill her?

Rational thought fled as she shook her face free of her hair, and when she could see again, she gasped in terror. Although Sean had taken the weight of the fall on his back and she’d landed on top of him, they shot down the mountain, gathering speed with no visible way of stopping. Headfirst and chest to chest, they slid down the icy peak, skidding dangerously close to large rocks and pine stumps, generating miniature avalanches and rock slides.

Desperately she searched for a handhold to slow or halt their mad fall. But her grasping fingers felt nothing but loose rock and icy snow.

Fifty yards down hill, a huge boulder stood in their path. They’d never survive a head-on collision.

“Roll!” Carlie ordered, grabbing his jacket and twisting as hard as she could to the right, taking Sean with her into a spiral. Corkscrewing down the mountain, they rolled over and over, plunging and bumping ever downward.

Forced to shut her eyes to avoid ice, pebbles and forest debris, Carlie clung to Sean and prayed for a gradual stop. When they bounced into thin air, her stomach lurched.

They landed with a thud that tore them apart.

She slid on her side for an instant before she realized somehow she’d done a one-eighty-degree turn and now was pitching downward feet first.

Sean had also turned around and skidded below her. But the path had gone right. They both were falling straight toward a cliff so steep, she couldn’t even see where they would land.

With the last of her strength, she dug in her heels, slowing her momentum. But not enough.

Even worse, it appeared as if Sean had managed to stop his mad slide. She was about to run into him and knock them both to their deaths.

She tried to fling her body to one side, would have succeeded, but a hand clamped over her ankle, jerking her to a stop a mere ten feet before the cliff’s edge. For a full minute she just lay on her back, staring straight up into the darkening sky and appreciating her every breath.

Sean lightly squeezed her ankle. “You okay?”

“Just dandy.”

She took a mental inventory. Her hands and feet, knees and elbows all seemed to be in working order. She thanked her lucky stars they’d landed on one of the huge patches of ice and snow that clung to the mountain’s north face.

“You sure?”

“Oh sure, I’m fine. It’s just the usual boring day in the life of Carlie Brandon. I wake up to find I’m practically at the North Pole, two years of my life are missing and I’m married to a man I don’t recognize. As if that’s not enough to deal with, my darling husband accuses me of murder and then…for no apparent reason, he throws me off a cliff.”

“I had a reason.” He turned on his side to look at her, the husky timbre of his voice deepening.

“Care to share it with me?”

“A red circle of laser light centered on your temple.”

He’d thought someone was trying to kill her. “So you decided to save me by hurling me over a cliff. You couldn’t have told me to duck?”

His lips twitched at her sarcasm but his amusement never reached his gray eyes. “Someone was sighting a gun at your head. Ducking wouldn’t have taken you out of the line of fire.”

She frowned, tried hard to recall one tiny fact from the last two years that could give her a clue to who wanted her dead, but came up with zip. Instead, she concentrated on her current predicament. She hadn’t seen any red dot of light. “I didn’t hear a shot.”

He climbed to his feet and shook snow from his hair and collar. “That doesn’t mean someone wasn’t out to get you.”

She lay on her back looking up at him. Had he saved her life? Or recklessly endangered it? Since he’d gone down the mountain with her, placing his own life in jeopardy, she was inclined to believe him.

He reached down and helped her to her feet. His hand was warm, strong, gentle. But he released her as quickly if touching her flesh had burned him—another unhusbandlike gesture.

“I think whoever killed Jackson thought he killed you at the mine, too.”

“And when he discovered differently, he came back to finish the job?”

“Maybe.”

She suspected he’d deliberately softened his opinion so she wouldn’t freak, exhibiting a kindness she hadn’t suspected. But she was tough, a cop. She wouldn’t fall apart. Her legs were only shaking because they’d slid a gazillion feet and had almost gone over a cliff.