Her blue eyes deepened to something closer to the indigo hue of an early evening sky. Chasing nightfall through the clouds had always been one of his favorite flights. He thrilled at the rush he got when hurtling through the shifting colors, as he rode the edge of darkness across time zones. Her eyes flickered with just those deep, rich colors, and he could feel it sucking him in.
Was he chasing or running?
Dipping from under his hands, Kathleen resumed her trek. "I've never been much of a team player, more the track, tennis, swimming sort of person. I go for sports like rock climbing."
Tanner's steps faltered before he regained traction on the cracked earth. "Rock climbing?"
"Yeah, rock climbing." Her lips pulled beck into that prissy line. "I'll have you know it's very restful."
He did not need to think about her mouth right now. "I imagine you skydive for fun."
Her lips pulled tighter, sealing any answer from escaping. The silence blared her response, anyway.
"Geez, O'Connell! You do!" As if his heart hadn't been stopped often enough for one day. Did she have to scare the pants off him with thoughts of her rappeling through the air or hanging from a cliff by her fingernails?
She shrugged. "I'm airborne qualified. So what if I like to keep my skills from getting rusty? It's not like you haven't trained for it, too."
"To learn how to get my butt on the ground if the plane won't put me there. Certainly not for kicks." A guy had to have some corner of peace in his life. It couldn't always be about the battle. "This job is dangerous enough, thank you very much. There's nothing wrong with tossing the ball around or sharing a beer with friends in your spare time."
Kathleen stomped ahead. He sure had her talking. Not surprising he'd managed to fire her up in the process. Of course, that was easier than a routine landing.
He pinched the bridge of his nose along the twice-set crook and forced himself to think rather than just react, to remember that his impulsiveness had lead to those breaks.
How could she not know how much the flyers respected her? Yeah, she was prickly, but everyone liked her. She was the one who turned down invitations to join the "flyer games." But damn it, the invitations were there.
Yet she wanted a name.
He'd wondered before how she relaxed, how she let down from the job stress, and now he understood. She didn't, not really. Asking her wasn't enough. She needed a shove to join the fun.
"You know this puts a real crimp in any holiday plans we may have had. Even if we luck into a ride, we're still not going to get home by Christmas." At this rate, they would be lucky to get out of the desert at all, but he wouldn't share that cheery thought with her. "What do you say we do something together? What did you do for Christmas last year?"
"Signed my divorce papers." She continued to pound the sand with her determined steps.
Tanner flinched. He'd landed his size-fourteen foot soundly on a land mine with that one. "That sucks."
"Not as bad as having your husband walk out at Christmastime the year before."
More than a lone land mine, he'd uncovered a whole minefield. Shoulder to shoulder, he walked beside her toward the crumbling adobe church. Silently. What could he say to fix it, anyway?
And why couldn't he just leave it alone? It wasn't his problem to fix.
Except he knew too well how a loss during the Christmas season killed the holiday spirit for years to come. He didn't make a big mourning deal out of it, but the pail hung there all the same.
He'd been relieved when his mom had finally married a few years ago. She'd found a good man who took her away for the holidays. No cookies-by-the-fireplace family traditions, they'd started a fresh slate of memories that didn't evoke those of the past.
Maybe that's what Kathleen needed, a change of holiday pace to set her life on a new course.
She'd always been a loner, but there was an aloofness to her now, more so than during their Academy days. He'd wondered why, finally concluding she'd just grown more uptight over the years. Now he wondered if he'd been wrong.
Kathleen wasn't aloof so much as wary. A cheating husband would do that to a woman, no doubt. Especially one who put as high a price on honor as Kathleen did. Yeah, that ex of hers had done a real number on her.
Of course, a person only had the power to hurt someone if she cared about him. A lot That Kathleen might still be hung up on her ex shouldn't bother him. But it did.
What was he thinking, anyway? How did he expect to give her some Christmas to remember in the middle of the freaking desert? A fitting setting, no doubt, for a couple of Scrooges hoping to escape the Ghost of Christmas Past
If the cold and coyotes didn't get them first.
Chapter 11
Darkness hugged her like an indigo blanket, pain thickening the texture to more of suffocating wool. Kathleen trudged the last few feet toward the crumbling mission. Silhouetted by the moon and a dome of desert stars, the russet stucco church would provide them with shelter for the night.
Thank goodness Tanner had given up trying to make her talk an hour ago. Silently he strode beside her. She didn't have the energy to devote to anything other than keeping pace with the steps he set. Steps she knew he'd adjusted for her, and man did that gall her.
For once, however, she didn't have the will to argue. It was damned embarrassing to he this wasted from what should have been a simple day's hike.
Her head throbbed from the accident. She didn't know about the rest of her, because she couldn't think about anything other than her aching temples. Too bad there wasn't likely to be a bottle of Motrin stored away inside the abandoned building.
A small portion of her brain still operated as a doctor. That little corner of reason told her she should have stopped an hour ago. Not that she really had a choice. She couldn't lie down and sleep on the desert floor while the night cold and coyotes tore at her.
She definitely wouldn't ask Tanner to carry her. Even if she didn't have his back to consider, pride wouldn't let her.
Rather like a thickheaded pilot on the flight line a couple of weeks ago.
Oh, great. Now that little corner of her brain was insisting on being reasonable, as well.
Kathleen pushed through a rickety picket fence and shuffled up the walk toward the half-open doors that hung off their hinges. She stumbled the last two feet to the steps. Adrenaline seeped from her in a steady flow, now that she no longer needed it. Her legs turned to water. She sagged to sit.
Water. Another thought she didn't need. The moist slice from a Joshua tree earlier had left her feeling decidedly green.
"Come on, O'Connell." Tanner crouched in front of her. "You need to get inside out of the wind."
"The wind's blowing?" Her brain must he more muddled than she'd thought. She tipped her face. A strand of hair swiped at her numb lips. "Well, look at that. It sure is."
She tried to move. Survival training told her it would drop to at least twenty degrees by midnight. Not factoring in the windchill. A wind that carried the bay of a lone coyote.
But she couldn't make her legs work.
So why was she floating? And on such a warm cloud that smelled of leather and soap. And Tanner.
Realizing he must have picked her up, she snuggled against his chest. "You shouldn't be doing this. Did you at least keep your chiropractor appointment this week?"
"Yeah, Doc."
His half chuckle vibrated against her ear. It held a darker tone that made her long for his uninhibited laugh. She wanted to smooth a hand over the worry lining his poster-boy face. "Not Doc."
"Definitely Sleepy."
"Yep." That niggled at her. Why? "Oh. Remember. Concussion. Wake me every two hours."
His arms tightened around her. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Her mouth formed the automatic reply, "I can take care of myself."
Since she couldn't squelch the need to assert herself, her brains must not be as rattled as she feared. Reassured, she nestled closer and simply enjoyed inhaling the scent of soap, leather. And Tanner. "Every two hours. Wake … me…"
"Kathleen? Kathleen! Two-hour check. Come on, Doc, wake up or I'm gonna toss you over my shoulder, kick some coyote butt, and hike out of this desert."
Tanner's insistent voice pierced Kathleen's foggy need to sleep. She peeled open her gritty eyes. Tanner loomed over her as she lay on…
A dusty church pew. How long had she been out?
As she tried to sit up, the dust stirred.
"Achoo!" A sneeze ripped through her. Exploded through her head. Brought tears to her eyes.
"A-a-choo! Ow!" The second sneeze almost took her to her knees, but she held up a hand to keep Tanner from launching into some nursemaid scenario. "I'm okay. Honestly. I'm definitely awake now."
"If you're sure," he said, skepticism infiltrating his tone.
Over his shoulder, she looked around the stark mission. A barren altar table listed to one side. Nooks for statues gaped empty. Moldy whitewash peeled from the walls. No doubt it was a decrepit mess, but the chapel echoed with a majestic peace beyond what could he found in a cathedral full of golden icons.
Kathleen elbowed up, and the world stayed blessedly still, no quivering ceiling. Nausea tickled but didn't overwhelm.
A yard away, a small fire crackled from the middle of a circle of stones. Smoke curled up through a jagged hole in the roof.
Crouching in front of her, Tanner palmed her back until she sat up. "How's the stomach?"
"Better."
He peered into her eyes until he apparently saw enough to reassure himself. "Good."
Kathleen pointed to the fire. "Looks like you've been busy."
"I scrounged up a few supplies to get us through the night. If the pickets run out, we can toss on some creosote brush. It'll smoke like a son of a gun, but we won't freeze. I also carved up another cactus. No luck with food, though. We should easily make town tomorrow. As long as we stay hydrated, finding food's not a concern for now."
The thought of eating caused her stomach to roil anyway. "The fire's great. You get an A plus in survival skills, Captain."
"Those coyotes out front limited our options."
Coyotes. She couldn't stop the shudder tripping through her as she thought of Tanner outside with the coyotes while she'd slept. She hadn't been much of a partner. "How long have I been asleep?"
"I checked you a couple of hours ago. Since you chewed me out, I figured that constituted as a wake-up. Then two more hours now." He bared his wrist and tapped his watch. "I set the alarm."
The numbers glowed—11:54. Almost midnight. "What a way to spend Christmas."
"I've had worse."
Uh-oh.
She remembered his worst Christmas well. Last time they'd talked about his sister, Kathleen had flung herself at Tanner like some sex-starved woman. Which she was. And weak. Man, was she feeling weak from more than the lingering effects of a bump on the head.
Yet, how could she turn him away if he needed to talk? He'd listened to her morbid tale about her ex. Tanner had far more reason to grieve than she.
And she wanted to hear, to help, to understand him.
Kathleen swung her feet off the pew and leaned back. She would listen to whatever he needed to say, but she would not, under any circumstances, kiss him. "Tell me about her."
Deciding how best to answer Kathleen's question, Tanner studied the tilt of her jaw and resisted the urge to check his back. That determined look of hers usually meant he was toast.
The past four hours of watching her sleep, while he set up supplies for the night, had been an odd mix of pleasure and torture. He'd never allowed himself the unreserved opportunity to study her. A pleasure, no doubt.