Chapter Six
Bethany’s unlikely hero slept. She knelt beside him, tracing his weary, beard-roughened features with her gaze. It terrified her to think how close he’d come to freezing to death today.
He’d risked his life to save her. Not just once, but twice.
No one had ever put her needs before their own. Her relationship with David had always been one sided. She’d always been the one to give, and he’d taken from her until she had nothing left.
Zach would never treat a woman he loved in such a way. He’d already proven he could keep her safe and make her feel cherished. She’d meant it when she’d told him she knew him better already than she’d ever known David.
With a sigh, she moved away and forced herself to eat half of one of the sandwiches left over from the sack lunches. She drank a few sips of the nasty whiskey and then climbed beneath the blankets, pressing as close to Zach as she could
His skin was still freezing cold to the touch. Only total exhaustion could have allowed him to fall asleep in such a state. Shivering, she chafed his fingers and toes until they began to warm. When the chill had faded somewhat, she snuggled close, determined to get some rest while he did. They’d both been up most of the previous night, and the day had been long and wearying. Within moments, she was fast asleep.
* * * * *
When Bethany awoke, she had no idea how long she’d slept. Zach curled around her, his big body warm at last. Cocooned beneath the weight of nearly half a dozen blankets, she was almost too warm. Still, she didn’t want to move and risk waking him. She wanted him to sleep as long as he needed.
If he’d been on the run for weeks, she doubted he’d gotten a good night’s sleep since before he escaped; perhaps even longer than that.
As she lay in the circle of his arms, she tried to think of a way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into. If only the lawmen on his trail would believe he’d died in the wreck… She sat up, dislodging the blankets as she remembered something Zach had said when he’d returned from his latest supply mission.
Coyotes have been at the bodies. They’re barely recognizable.
Zach gave a soft moan of complaint as the cold air rushed in and touched his bare skin, but when she covered him up, he sighed and went back to sleep. The coach driver had been a young, dark-haired man. How badly had the coyotes torn at the bodies? Was there a possibility the driver could be mistaken for Zach? What if he was wearing the shackles?
Pushing to her feet, she padded barefoot across the cave, shivering as she entered the tunnel. When she reached the end, she stared outside, realizing it was morning already. It was still snowing, but the wind had died down. The tracks Zach had made in the snow were still discernible, leaving a trail she could follow with relative ease.
If she could make it back to the coach and find the shackles, she could put them on the driver’s body. It had to be done now, before it stopped snowing, so it wasn’t obvious it had been done after the wreck. Perhaps she could grab some things from her trunk, too.
The wind wasn’t blowing anymore, so it shouldn’t be too hard. She could do it, for Zach. Lord knew he’d done far more for her.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she went back inside the cave to get dressed.
* * * * *
When Zach discovered Bethany had left, he went out of his mind with worry. Where the hell had she gone? Had she run away from him? Would she rather die in the snow than spend another night in his arms?
As he pulled on his damp clothes, he cursed himself for having slept so long. It had been years since he’d slept so deeply. Having Bethany at his side had allowed him to do so. Even in his sleep, he’d known she wasn’t a threat.
But her disappearance rattled him. Had she gone for help? Had she decided she wanted nothing to do with a murderer? A convict? A man who’d never had any right to put his hands on her in the first place?
His fears dissipated when he reached the cave entrance and saw the storm had abated. The snow still fell fast and hard, but the bitter wind had quieted. She’d followed his tracks, back in the direction the coach.
Girding himself to go back out into the cold, he followed.
He hadn’t gone very far when he caught sight of her, about fifty yards away, struggling to pull something large and heavy through the waist-deep snow behind her.
“Bethany,” he yelled, relief and anger warring within him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Come help,” she called. “This thing is heavy.”
Fuming, he stomped toward her. Had she risked her life to go and retrieve a trunk full of fripperies? He hadn’t thought her vain, but now he reminded himself he didn’t know her at all.
She hadn’t managed to move the trunk very far by the time he reached her, and he wondered how long she’d been at this. She was stubborn; he’d give her that.
“What’s in here that’s so important?” he groused as he reached her side.
“Blankets. Pillows. Some honey and preserves. Some heavy clothing—coats and gloves and such.” She extended her hands, wiggling her fingers to show she was wearing gloves. “If we’re going to be living in the cave for a few more days, I thought they would come in handy.”
