Dawn of Valor (8 page)

Rachel followed his direction. The first one was the toughest, but it went down easily to her surprise. She kept her eyes tightly shut, visualizing that chicken. Soon, all six were gone. Letting out a long breath of air, she glanced sheepishly over at Chase.

“Okay?” he asked, watching her come back to where he sat.

“I think so.” Running her fingers through her hair, Rachel realized it needed a combing. “How’s your head?”

“Better. It’s not aching so much.”

“Good.” She crawled to the opening and looked out of the cave. “When I was out scouting around, I noticed there aren’t many groves of trees. We’re going to have to stick to the edge of this valley and use the huge rock formations for cover.”

He nodded. Rachel was practical—another commendable trait. “You’re right. Did you see any patrols?”

“No.” She chewed on her lips. “I get this awful feeling they’re close, though.”

He snorted. “Women’s intuition?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s unreliable.”

Rachel glared at him. “You’re so pigheaded!”

“Keep your voice down, sound carries.”

That did it! Rachel scrambled to her feet, crouched over in the cave. She glanced around, making sure they were leaving nothing behind. “Come on, it’s time to go. I don’t happen to agree at all with your assessment of my intuition.”

Without a word, Chase followed her out of the cave. He told himself that Rachel was upset over nothing. Intuition was women’s emotionality at best. He wasn’t about to trust his skin to her feelings, but he said nothing.

Rachel bristled as Chase placed his arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support. “One of these days,” she muttered fiercely under her breath, “you’re going to eat your words, Captain. Just because I sense things differently doesn’t mean I’m wrong! Come on, we’ve got some miles to make up for.”

Chase didn’t have the heart to argue. Let her anger give her the stamina for both of them. The sunlight was bright, peeking between building thunderheads. He winced, squinting. The concussion made his eyes extraordinarily sensitive to light, and he was unable to look around for signs of patrols as Rachel guided them between rock formations.

The ground was uneven. Around them, Chase saw turrets of rocks, reminding him of castles thrusting upward hundreds of feet tall. They were traversing a narrow valley with sparse vegetation and trees. Everything was yellowed and shriveled from lack of rain. Numerous caves dotted the hillsides, the brush clinging to them indicating water nearby.

Thirty minutes later, Rachel spotted an enemy patrol. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, and she jerked Chase to the right, pushing him behind one of the turretlike rock formations.

“Enemy!” she breathed sharply, shoving him between two large rocks until he disappeared into the shadows.

“Where?” Chase whispered, unable to look over the rocks. He saw Rachel’s face go pale. She was hurriedly gathering brush.

“About half a mile south of us. They’re coming our way.”

He gripped her hand as she threw a large branch above his head. “Hold it. What are you doing?”

Fear was making her shaky. “Hiding you.”

His grip tightened on her slender wrist. Chase saw the fear in her eyes. “What about
you
?”

“I’m going to be a decoy and lead them away from here.”

His lips drew back from his teeth. “Like hell you are!” Chase exploded softly. “Get in here! There’s enough room. We’ll hide together.”

Shaking her head, Rachel jerked out of his viselike grip. “No! Now shut up and lie on the ground. Hurry!”

Real anger wove through Chase. He rolled over onto his belly, hugging the ground. The North Koreans wouldn’t find them. Why was Rachel willing to become a target? Clenching his fists, he closed his eyes as she hurled thickets of brush on top of him. Chase wanted to throttle her. This wasn’t a game. Is that how she saw this exercise? A child’s game of hide-and-seek?

As he lay there, his breathing harsh, Chase felt the layers of reason rip away to the real truth of his concern. Dammit, he liked Rachel. More than a little bit. She was the most courageous, foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Chase wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Within moments, he could barely see her legs outside the brush enclosure that surrounded him.

Rachel got down on her knees. “Chase?” she hissed.

“Yeah?”

His voice vibrated with anger. Right now, it didn’t matter to Rachel. Her voice came out off-pitch. “Look, I’m going to try and lead them away. It’s our only chance—”

“Then be
careful
!” He saw the terror etched on her face, her beautiful lips compressed. Disagreeing with Rachel was fruitless. Time was precious and Chase didn’t want her wasting it arguing. “Stay low, and don’t compromise yourself for me. Understand?”

“I’ll be careful,” Rachel promised raggedly, jerking a look over her shoulder. “They’re coming, Chase. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back….”

Chase wanted to hold her and tell her to take it easy, that everything would be all right. But none of that was true. Helplessness overwhelmed him. It was one thing for a man to be lost behind lines. To have a vulnerable, beautiful woman like Rachel putting her life in jeopardy was more than he could handle. He glared up through the branches.

“Dammit, you’d better come back in one piece! This is crazy. You could be hiding in here with me.”

A tight smile edged Rachel’s mouth as she rose unsteadily to her feet. “I’ll be back, Captain. I’m not done haunting you yet.”

She was gone. Chase watched Rachel spin around, leaping like a graceful gazelle between the rock formations, moving to higher ground until she disappeared from his view. The emergency ripped away Chase’s defenses. A powerful emotion shattered through him, one that focused on Rachel and what she meant to him. He barely knew her, and yet he was reacting like a protective husband. Glowering down at the gray and brown earth, Chase laid his head on his hands, hearing the voices of the enemy patrol coming closer. Shutting his eyes, he prayed, something he did only in dire emergencies. But he didn’t pray for himself; he prayed for Rachel’s flight to safety.

Her breath coming in heaving gulps, Rachel leaped from one small boulder to another, scaling the hill. At the crest, hidden behind a turret, she crouched. Below, Rachel could see the twelve-man patrol, their dark brown uniforms blending with the grays and yellows of the valley.

To Rachel’s despair, they were headed directly toward Chase. Without thinking, she picked up a rock, hurling it behind the patrol. The rock sailed down the hill, landing about three hundred feet behind them. The patrol was jumpy, whirling around. The rock struck a turret, exploding into hundreds of smaller fragments.

Standing up, Rachel deliberately exposed herself to the patrol. She heard them shout, gesturing excitedly in her direction. Good! Whirling around, she headed down the reverse side of the hill, running with cadence, watching where she put her feet. One slip and she could hurtle down the rock-strewn slope, spraining an ankle or worse, breaking a leg. Either way, Rachel could be captured—or killed.

She heard more shouts and knew they were climbing the hill in pursuit of her. So much of her father’s training came back to her. Rachel listened to her instincts, weaving them with the common sense her parents had taught her. The hill was steep, flowing immediately into another rocky slope.

The sun was high overhead, telling Rachel it was noon. If she could outwit the patrol, find a place to hide and remember where Chase was hidden, she could wait until dusk to find her way back to him. Taking huge breaths through her mouth, Rachel pushed her body to its physical limits. All the time she was intent on evading the enemy, her heart was centered on Chase. The possibility of losing him kept Rachel honest with herself. She liked the guy. A lot.
Just let me get back to him. Let me find him safe tonight….

Chase lay unmoving, cramped and stiff. Dusk was upon him; the patrol had left hours ago. But they could call in trucks loaded with more squads to search the area carefully. He remained where he was. Frustration and fear gnawed at him. Where the hell was Rachel? Was she safe? Had they found her? Two hours earlier, he’d heard rifle shots ripping through the silence of the valley. Sweat dripped from his furrowed brow. Dammit, she
had
to be safe! Her angel features hovered hotly before his mind’s eye. The contralto warmth of her voice haunted him.

“Chase!”

His eyes flew open. Was it the wind picking up or did he hear Rachel’s voice?

“Chase!”

“Here,” he said, his voice cracking. It was Rachel! He pushed upward, getting to his hands and knees, moving the entire group of thickets that had hidden him.

“Thank God,” Rachel whispered, running to the spot. Quickly she tore away the brush, uncovering Chase. In the dusky light, she could see the shadowed harshness of his face as he staggered to his feet. Never had he looked so good. With a little cry, Rachel threw her arms around him, hugging him, holding him.

“You’re safe,” he growled, his arms closing around Rachel, holding her tightly against him. Chase felt a little cry come from her. He pressed one hand against her hair, the other against her long, curved back. “God, I was worried sick,” he admitted thickly, lost in the musky scent of her hair, the sweetness that was only Rachel.

“I’m okay…okay…” she quavered. Her cheek pressed against the dampness of his flight suit, Rachel felt and heard the powerful beat of Chase’s heart. She tightened her arms around him, wildly aware of his strength and the protection that emanated from him like an intense beacon of light. He’d been just as frightened as she had. When his hand slid down her spine to capture her hips against his, a gasp of shock escaped her.

“No…” Rachel protested, placing her hands flat against his chest, pushing away. Heat stung her cheeks, and she was unable to look at him for several moments afterward, trying to grapple with her unraveling emotions.

“Sorry,” Chase muttered, opening his hands toward her. “I—well, I was worried. I thought they might have got you and…” His voice failed him. Rachel had felt incredibly alive and warm in his arms. Hunger for her thundered through him. Savagely he reminded himself that they were nearly strangers to each other. Rachel didn’t feel like a stranger, though. She had fitted perfectly against his frame, each of her delicious curves molding to his harder planes.

Watching her from beneath his lashes, Chase added, “I got carried away. I was just glad to see you. Are you all right?” He saw several small scratches on her left cheek, the blood having dried a long time ago.

Rachel stepped away from Chase’s overwhelming male presence, rattled by the powerful feelings the contact had created. “I know…I got carried away, too. I’m glad you’re safe.” Everything about him sang through her like a sweet song that her body knew intimately. “And I’m fine,” she added as an afterthought, completely disoriented by what she had done in throwing her arms around Chase.

Chase appraised her more critically. “What happened? I heard rifle fire about two hours ago.” He kept his voice low, constantly perusing the darkening hills for patrols.

Rachel sat on a flat rock, needing to rest. Chase looked remarkably well—a hundred percent better than when she’d left him hours earlier. “I threw a rock to distract them,” she told him, watching him crouch nearby. “I played the wounded-mother-bird trick on them and they fell for it.”

“And the gunfire?”

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know. I was on the other side of the valley when it happened. Maybe they were killing some poor animal for food.”

Nodding, Chase knew that was possible. “That was a crazy, stupid stunt you pulled. You could have hidden with me.”

The anger wasn’t in his voice, and Rachel saw the torment in his dark blue eyes. “Our boot prints are all over this place, Chase.” She pointed to the tread marks imprinted in the dirt around his hiding place. “If the patrol had made it to this point, they’d have known we were there. I had to distract them before they saw these prints. If we’d had more time, I could have used a piece of brush to hide our tracks, but we didn’t.” Rachel shoved several strands of hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Chase considered her argument. Damned if she wasn’t right—again. And her woman’s instincts had forewarned her of the enemy’s nearness. He held her gaze, noting the exhaustion in her eyes. “Maybe we ought to have you teach our guys survival tactics.”

She smiled, hearing the admiration in his tone, allowing his deep voice to wash across her like a healing blanket. “Thank my dad. He was the one who showed me a mother kildeer flapping her wing on the ground as if it were broken, to draw us away from her babies.”

“One of these days, I’d like to shake your dad’s hand and tell him he helped save my neck,” Chase admitted ruefully, meeting and matching her smile. The ache to reach out and fold Rachel into his arms was excruciating. Chase reluctantly tabled the desire, realizing it was wrong under the circumstances. Hell, their embrace had been wrong, too, but he hadn’t cared. They had come together like spontaneous combustion. It wasn’t safe to hold her, Chase realized, because he had little control over his emotions toward Rachel. And she deserved his respect, not his groping.

“I found some water at the end of this valley,” Rachel said, pointing in the direction. “On the other side is a village, a small one.”

Chase studied her in silence. He saw the longing in her eyes; she couldn’t hide how she felt about him, either. Their relationship was mutual and hope sprang strongly in his chest.

“Chase?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. We should head toward the water and stay clear of the village.”

Rachel saw the faraway look in his eyes and wondered what was going on inside that head of his. “You look better.”

“I am.” He touched the bandage. “And my headache is gradually going away.”

“Good.” Rachel stood up, stiff and sore. “Feel like taking a stroll with me to that water?”

He rose to his feet. “I never turn down an offer from a beautiful woman.”

She colored fiercely as he slid his arm along her shoulder. “I’ll bet you don’t.” Rachel gripped his wrist, prepared to take his weight.