Turquoise Guardian. Jenna Kernan

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СКАЧАТЬ “I have their guns. Those guys. But someone else is here now.”

      “Jack?” he whispered.

      “I don’t think so.”

      From the top of the bank, seemingly right above them, came the voice again.

      “Where is she?”

      That one sounded Anglo, he thought.

      Next came another voice, deeper, with a speaking pattern that lacked the Texas twang.

      “They got away.”

      “They can’t have gone far,” came the reply.

      Amber flattened into the warm earth beside him, covering her mouth with one hand and retrieving a gun from the waistband of her slacks. She looked like she knew what she was doing. She rolled to her side and then reached behind and beneath her blazer, laying a second gun on his chest. He took it, and their eyes met. He saw no fear now. Only a cold determination and willingness to do what was necessary. She would have made a good soldier. His gut twisted, so damn glad she had not been there with him in the Sandbox.

      “They’re right on our tails,” said the first voice. “We have maybe another two minutes.”

      “But she’s right here!” said his companion.

      Amber’s eyes widened. She was the only “she” out here.

      “No time,” repeated the first man. “Get my brother. We’ll have to come back for her.

      “Hurry up,” said the first man.

      A car door opened, the metal groaning a protest.

      The same voice again. “Let’s go.”

      Carter looked at Amber. Her hand was pressed to her mouth again as if to keep from screaming. Her eyes were wide. Seconds ticked by, and then two more doors slammed and tires patched out on the gravel that lined the shoulder of the road.

      Amber slid her hand away from her mouth. “Are they gone?”

      Carter nodded. “I think so.”

      “Should I check?” she asked.

      He shook his head. There was no reason for her to see this. He could protect her from that image, the kind that stuck in your mind and flashed back like a thunderstorm.

      They said they had two minutes.

      “We wait,” said Carter.

      Insects buzzed in the grass above them, and the wind brushed through the long needles of the ponderosa pines on the opposite bank. Amber returned her gun to her waistband and then gripped his arm with two of hers as she huddled close.

      “How did you get me out?” he asked.

      “You walked, mostly.”

      “Mostly?”

      There was a whooshing sound, as if from a strong gust of wind. Black smoke rose up behind them, billowing in a dark column in the bright blue sky.

      “Fire,” said Carter.

      Had the men retrieved Muir and Leopold before setting the Subaru ablaze?

      Tires crunched on sand. Amber’s grip tightened, and she ducked her head.

      “They’re back,” she whispered, her voice strained.

      “Carter? Amber?”

      He knew that voice. It was Jack.

      “Here!” he yelled. When he stood, the dizziness came with him, clawing at him and making the ground heave. Amber was there beside him, steadying him, holding him so he didn’t fall.

      “Slow,” she said. “Go slow.”

      She could have run to his brother. But she didn’t. She helped him walk, leaning into him as she wrapped an arm about his middle and gripped his opposite arm, now draped over her narrow shoulders. Then he scrambled up the steep bank on his hands and knees toward the road topping the rise and saw the SUV consumed in flames.

       Chapter Seven

      Amber felt safe again, at least for now. Detective Bear Den had transported them back to Pinyon Forks and the Turquoise Canyon police station. On the way they had told Carter’s brother everything. Once they arrived, she’d had a chance to wash her face and hands, brush out the powder from her hair and drink some water with Carter standing guard outside the door.

      We’ll have to come back for her.

      Who where they? And why did they need to come back for her? She wrapped her arms about herself and shivered. She had gotten tangled up in something, but she didn’t know what.

      She now sat with Carter in Tribal Police Chief Tinnin’s office devouring a sandwich, chips and a cookie provided by the same woman who prepared the meals for the prisoners. Amber was so hungry she barely tasted the food. Carter’s was already gone, and he sat back to finish his third bottle of water.

      Some of the powder had settled in his part, clinging to his black hair. He wore a new clean T-shirt courtesy of his brother who had a locker across the hall. He also wore an unbuttoned green-and-white chambray shirt that was obviously Jack’s, because, though Carter was a big man, he had to roll the sleeves.

      Carter watched her eat and smiled.

      “Wish we had some fry bread,” he said.

      Fry bread! She hadn’t had any since she’d visited her sister over the holidays. It was just one of many things she missed. She returned Carter’s smile.

      He lifted the water bottle and drank, his Adam’s apple rising and falling with the rhythm of each swallow. Her mouth went dry, and her entire body electrified. Even after all this time he still made her want him without even trying.

      She cut her gaze away, refusing to torture herself with the sight of him. But she was too weak, and her eyes found him again. The bottle lay between his two broad hands, tucked between strong thighs. She exhaled.

      “Amber. You okay?”

      She forced her gaze away from his groin, but it was too late. Now his eyes blazed in return, the sexual awareness crackling between them like static electricity.

      “Amber,” he whispered, leaning forward.

      She shook her head but moved closer until his fingers brushed over her cheek, leaving heat blazing in their wake.

      She wished they could go back in time, back to those two kids who had fallen in love, and try again. Tell her younger self to be wise and give Carter another chance. But it was too late now, because she could never ask him to leave their tribe, and she was too ashamed to stay.

      Despite her reservations, her heart hammered in giddy excitement and her skin flushed.

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