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He was right on all counts. Her reason hadn’t changed, but she couldn’t go into it out here. And despite her resolve, she did need help to get back to West Yellowstone and then on to somewhere else. Maybe they could risk being together for just that long. “Yes,” she reluctantly conceded. “I do need help. So now what?”
“Here it comes!” someone shouted.
“Look!” It’s starting, someone else said.
A slight murmur filtered through the crowd as the geyser began to bubble and spit water. As it grew, the murmur built to excitement as people on the boardwalk and benches adjusted cameras and phones, turning their attention to Old Faithful in eager anticipation.
Releasing her, Marcus walked them further down the boardwalk as he stole glances at the geyser, watching it shoot higher, fall back and shoot again, further with each pulse, until it was a solid eruption of cascading water.
“Will ye look at that?” he exclaimed, looking over his shoulder as he urged her forward. “Just keep movin’, lass,” he said low as he kept glancing back.
“I cannae believe that wee cone is shootin’ all that water and steam so far intae the sky. ’Tis amazing. And if we’re lucky, a grand distraction.”
Never breaking his stride, he continued to steal glances behind them and at the geyser as they wove their way through groups of people.
Suddenly, he grasped her arm and picked up his pace, forcing her to jog to keep up.
The edginess that never left her suddenly intensified, settling like a stone between her shoulder blades.
When Marcus took another look behind them, she did too. Even through the mist, she could see someone in a blue shirt moving rapidly toward them.
“Is it them?” she asked breathlessly tugging her arm free. “We need to run.”
“I cannae tell,” he answered. “But ye’ll only draw attention tae yerself if ye run.”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “At least I’ll have a chance of escaping. I won’t get one if they catch me here.”
“Aye,” he ground out. “Ye’re right. Go! I’ll be right behind ye.”
For the first few seconds, she heard their feet pounding the boardwalk. Then her pulse thrumming wildly in her ears blocked out everything but her own labored breaths.
He all but dragged her the last fifty yards to Old Faithful Inn. She still had the strength to run but the length of her strides were no match for his. He grasped her arm again and together they raced across the drive, up the steps of the Inn and into the shadowed interior.
Tait took a last glance behind them for the tell-tale blue shirt as Marcus quickly surveyed the room and pulled her past the vast fireplace toward the stairs leading to the balcony above.
Dodging groups of people, they climbed those stairs and then another flight to a second balcony before Marcus pulled her into the darkest recessed corner and pushed her to the floor behind a grouping of chairs.
“Stay here, Tait,” he gasped as they both tried to catch their breath. “They cannae see ye here. They’d have tae come up those stairs, and I promise ye, they’d never make it.”
She shook her head, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. “They have guns, Marcus.”
“Aye,” he nodded. “But even they cannae shoot around corners. And I willnae let ’em get close enough for a straight shot.”
“Please,” Tait begged, grabbing his hand to pull him down beside her. “Stay with me. Maybe we can wait them out.” Even as she said the words, she knew better. And obviously, so did Marcus.
“I willnae be long,” he soothed, gently extricating his hand.
“No, Marcus!” she cried.
“I need tae determine if ’tis even them. I’ll be careful. I need tae call for a taxi tae get us back intae town.”
She pulled out her phone and tapped in her security code. “I’ll call. But a taxi won’t come clear out—”
“They’ll come. I checked intae it when I was deciding between that and the bus tae come here in the first place.”
Tait nodded, turning her attention back to her phone. Not having to go back on that bus would be a Godsend. “Damn!” Her heart sank. “There’s no cell-service. We’ll have to use a landline after all.”
“No’ we!I’llgo. Ye stay put!” He started to rise when she grabbed his arm.
