Stolen Moments. B.J. Daniels
Читать онлайн книгу.
rumbled to life, he shot Levi a glance, hoping to see grudging admiration in her face. Or at least a little respect.
Instead she gave him a look that said If you’re so smart, then why are people trying to kill you? Or maybe he was just thinking that himself.
He slid out of the truck, grousing at what a hard woman she was to impress, but before he could turn to get back in, he felt a boot connect hard with his butt. The unexpected momentum sent him sprawling headfirst onto the barn floor.
Behind him he heard the driver’s side door slam, the motor rev and the clutch pop. As the old truck roared backward out of the barn, he leaped to his feet and ran after it. Blamed woman!
She was frantically searching for first gear when he reached her side of the pickup. Just as he grabbed for the door handle, she slammed down the lock with her elbow. Damn her! She found first gear, popped the clutch again, but her inexperience driving on snow gave him a few seconds. He flung himself over the hood to the passenger side and jumped on the running board as the less-than-great rubber on the tires spun for a moment, then caught. He tried the door, not surprised to find it locked as well.
Clinging to the moving vehicle by the side mirror, he tapped on the glass. Levi glanced over at him. He mouthed the word stop. But she turned back to her driving, getting the pickup rolling along at a pretty good clip as she headed for the main road.
He held onto the mirror, quickly assessing the situation as he saw in the pickup’s headlights the row of low-limbed pine trees coming up on his side of the narrow road. He slammed an elbow against the side window. The window shuddered but didn’t break. He heard a shriek from inside the truck but she made no attempt to slow down. Big surprise.
Just as he’d figured, she drove close enough to the pines lining the driveway that the branches whipped him and did their best to knock him off the running board. This woman was starting to get to him.
Just past the last pine tree, she threw on the brakes. The change in momentum swung him around the mirror and smacked his hip into the fender, but he managed to get his feet back on the running board before she got the truck going again. She was getting better at driving on snow.
Tired of fooling with her, he elbowed the side window once more. This time the glass shattered, showering into the cab, bringing a satisfying oath from inside.
Quickly he reached in and pulled the door handle up. The door swung open and he leaped in, slamming it behind him before she had a chance to do anything more than shift gears.
He didn’t look at her. “Stop the truck.”
Not surprisingly, she didn’t jump to his quiet command. In fact, she didn’t even respond.
“Stop the truck now or so help me, Levi—”
She hit the brakes, almost putting him through the windshield. She flung open her door and jumped out at a run. He slid across the seat, slipping the truck into neutral to keep it from dying as it rolled to a stop, and went after her. In two long strides, he caught her by the collar of her coat.
“Are you crazy?” he demanded.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that,” she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes. Her breath came out frosty-white in the night. “I didn’t kidnap you.”
He let out a sigh. “If you could just let me get us to a phone, I could prove to you that I didn’t kidnap you.”
She mugged a face at him. “Why should I believe anything you tell me? You haven’t told me anything.”
“Excuse me. I’ve been a little busy trying to keep us alive.” She didn’t seem in the least appreciative and he wondered what it would take. “I told you my name.”
“Seth? Seth what?”
“Gantry.”
She raised a brow. “If Seth Gantry is even your name.”
“It is,” he replied indignantly.
They stood glaring at each other, breathing hard, eyeing each other with distrust. He could see doubt in her expression; she didn’t believe they were still in danger. Maybe she didn’t want to believe she’d ever been in danger—other than from him.
He tried to think of something he could say to gain her trust but gave up. He had to face it: she wasn’t going to go along with him anymore. At least not willingly. And he was in no mood to fight her.
“I hate to have to do this,” he said. Pulling the handcuffs from his coat pocket with one hand, he let go of her collar and grasped her right wrist.
She tried to struggle out of his hold. “You wouldn’t,” she said, giving him a haughty look when all else had failed.
“You’d be surprised what I’d do right now,” he muttered. He snapped one of the loops closed on her wrist. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee.” He hauled her around to the passenger side. “Get in the truck.” She had the good sense not to cross him again. The moment she climbed in, he fastened the other loop to the seat frame.
From behind the pickup seat, he dug out a threadbare farm jacket and a chunk of old cardboard. He stuffed it into the broken side window as best he could, closed the door and went around to the driver’s side and slid in, only to find her searching through his backpack with her free left hand.
“The pistol isn’t in there,” he said. He closed the door and snatched the backpack from her before she decided to use the flashlight on him.
Once on the main road, a blacktopped two-lane, he headed north toward Big Timber, glad the low clouds and the darkness provided protective cover from any aircraft. Then the snow began to fall, large white flakes drifting lazily down, and he knew they stood a good chance of not being seen from the air. That still left the possibility of a roadblock though.
But he didn’t think that was likely since he didn’t believe the people after them were FBI or any other law enforcement group. Yet.
He felt better. But then he always felt better on the move—even when he had no idea where he was headed or what waited around the next bend.
“So what now?” Levi asked. “I assume you have a plan.”
He stared at the road. He couldn’t believe she expected him to devise an infallible plan while he was saving their lives, escaping killers and stealing wheels. “No reason to have a plan until you need one.”
“You don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re doing, do you?” she asked incredulously.
He glanced over at her. “I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. I’m sorry if you have a problem with that, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, but all the fight seemed to have gone out of her.
He felt a wave of guilt and searched around for something to say. When words failed him, he got the heater going, pleased to hear it hum and even more happy when a little warm air spit from it. Maybe a bit of heat would help her.
He happened to catch his reflection in the rearview mirror. No wonder she’d thought he was the crazy one. Between the dried blood on his temple and the dark stubble of a day’s growth of beard on his chin and the look in his eyes, he appeared crazed. Hell, he was crazed. He always felt that way when someone was trying to kill him.
He turned his attention to the highway. Ahead, the new snow melted the moment it touched the pavement; fog rose like lost spirits in the headlights. Inside the pickup, even with only a coat and cardboard stuffed in the broken window, it was starting to warm up and it felt good.
“Don’t you think you ought to at least tell me what I’m doing here?” Levi asked in a no-nonsense tone.
This was a woman used to giving orders. Too bad he wasn’t in the habit of taking them.
When he didn’t answer immediately, she snapped, “Look, you got me into this. You kidnapped me or whatever