Course of Action: Out of Harm's Way / Any Time, Any Place. Merline Lovelace
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you just keep sitting quietly, and I’m going to work my way back toward your horse. The reins of your horse are tied on the back of this horse’s saddle. Just slowly nod your head if you understand me.”
Travis moved furtively, constantly crooning to her horse whose eyes were rolling. The animal was skittish, and the last thing Travis needed was for it to bolt. The horse’s nostrils flared, picking up his scent. Travis didn’t smell like the other riders. The horse suddenly planted its front feet, getting ready to bolt.
“Whoa, big guy,” he called to the horse. “No need to bolt, son, just stand down, stand down.” He eased the knot out of the reins. More relief rushed through Travis as he gripped the reins in his left hand.
“Okay,” he told her, “I’ve got your horse’s reins. I’m going to come up beside you and cut off that belly rope.”
He heard her gasp a little. Travis could see her shaking in the saddle. Feeling sorry for the woman, he pulled his KA-BAR from its sheath and quickly sliced the thick rope. Her legs were now free. He slid the knife back into the sheath.
“We’re almost home free, gal,” he told her softly. “I’ve got the horse’s reins in my one hand. I’m going to come up on your left side and slide my arm around your waist. When I do that, I want you to relax, trust me and I’m going to pull you off this horse. Got it?” He looked upward, watched her nod. Heard her erratic breathing.
As he slid his arm around her waist, Travis felt her relax. “Okay, here we go,” he said and then lifted her away from the saddle. She was probably five foot seven and weighed around a hundred and thirty pounds.
Madison groaned and clenched her teeth as he hauled her off the horse. Pain and burning shot through her shoulders. He was strong and tall, that much she could tell. And then she picked up his scent, a combination of sweat and his own unique maleness. Her feet touched the ground and she gave a soft cry as her legs gave way.
Travis gently guided her to sit on the earth. He released the horse and focused on the woman. Taking off the hood, he saw her blond hair was mussed and her blue eyes were filled with pain. Quickly, he moved behind her, unknotting the bonds and releasing her wrists.
“You’re safe,” he rasped, carefully pulling the ropes free. He scowled. Her wrists looked like hamburger; her fingers were covered in dried blood. Rage flowed through him over what they’d done to her. He knelt in front of her.
“Madison Duncan?” he asked, holding her terrified blue gaze.
“Y-yes....” She tried to move her arms, grimacing as she did so.
“Travis Cooper, ma’am.” He kept a hand on her shoulder. “Where are you hurt?”
Madison struggled to speak. “I’m...thirsty....”
He pulled a bottle of water out of a cammie pocket, opened it and handed it to her. “Here you go. Drink your fill.” Well, it wasn’t going to happen. Huge tears formed in her eyes as she tried to move her hands.
“I—I can’t,” she managed. “M-my arms are numb. I can’t feel anything.”
Travis slid his arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. And he placed the lip of the bottle against her mouth. Damn, but she was twenty times better looking than the grainy color passport photo he’d seen of her on his laptop. Her hair was long and slightly wavy, halfway down her back, with streaks of darker blond, cream and more gold colors.
She drank, the water spilling out the corners of her mouth, dribbling down on the dirty tank top she wore.
“Slow down, gal. There’s more where that came from.” He held her eyes, giving her a slight smile meant to help her relax.
Travis kept his hearing keyed. The five booms from a Win Mag would be instantly recognized and any Taliban in the area would know it was an American sniper. The dawn was barely upon them. The sky was indigo and a few stars still blinked above. She finished off the bottle of water.
“Good,” he told her, throwing it away. “Now, talk to me. Where are you hurt?” He prayed like hell she hadn’t been raped. The slope of her left cheek was swollen and there was dried blood around her nostrils and chin. Plenty of blood had spilled on her tank top as well, and Travis knew she’d been hit at least once.
Madison tried to move her hands. Her fingers wouldn’t work. They felt cold and numb. “M-my shoulders and arms hurt.”
“That’s from being tied in that position for so long,” he told her, running his hand across her shoulders. He could feel Madison trembling. And to her credit, she was trying to keep it together. Yeah, she was a Texas gal, through and through.
“They hit me,” she whispered, trying to look up at him through her hair. Lifting her hand, she tried unsuccessfully to push the hair out of her eyes. She saw his bearded face, his dark green eyes narrowed intently upon her. He was dressed in cammies, a boonie hat on his head. His mouth was thinned. Travis Cooper. He’d rescued her. She was safe, alive.
“Anything else?” he asked, trying to steel himself. Her eyes grew cloudy and she quivered in his arms.
“N-no.... Why did they do this?” She searched his hard, weathered face.
“Kidnapping is profitable,” he said. Damn, but she was beautiful. Her eyes reminded him of the dawn sky, a deep cobalt blue. Her pupils were large and black, a thin black crescent curved around the outside of her iris, emphasizing them even more. He gently pushed some of her hair away from her face to hold her gaze. “Look, I need to get you back on a horse. We need to hightail it out of here. I’ve got a cave in mind where we can hide and get out from under the Taliban’s gunsights.” He looked down at her. She reminded him of a disheveled, broken doll. “Can you do that?”
“Y-yes, I can.”
“Good,” he grunted, unwinding and standing. “Stay here. I need to get my ruck and my rifle. I’ll be right back.”
The horses had huddled around them. Travis took off at a fast trot across the flat land toward the scree slope. He knew horses were herd animals. They were used to humans and hopefully would remain with Madison while he picked up his gear. As he ran, he called back to Camp Bravo, giving them information on the package and her present medical condition.
“You’ve got forty Taliban on horseback three miles north of you, heading your direction.”
Yeah, well, Travis had expected the Win Mag would wake up every Taliban in the area. “Roger that.” He filled the master chief in on his escape plan and gave him their GPS position. Travis located his ruck, strapped his Win Mag to the outside of it and pulled the ruck over his shoulders, then swiftly turned and headed down the scree.
In the distance he could see Madison was sitting, her head bowed, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. God, he felt sorry for her and lengthened his stride, urgency pushing him. Three miles could be covered damn quick by men on horseback.
Madison looked up, watching the Navy man jogging toward her. He was tall, probably at least six feet. And lean, like a starved wolf. It was his oval face, those wide-set green eyes of his and that black beard that made him look hard. He’d just saved her life. Emotions welled up in her. She watched as he slowed to a walk, picked up the reins of one horse and then walked over to the dead soldiers.
What was he doing? She frowned, watching him quickly take off vests, cloaks and trousers from two of them. In no time, he had the clothing strapped on to the back of the saddle. Turning, he walked over to her.
“How are you doing?” he asked, kneeling down, searching her dirty, sweaty face.
“O-okay....” Her heart took off when he gave her a lazy smile. His entire face changed and he almost became handsome.
“Now, you wouldn’t lie to me, would you, darlin’?” He could tell she was rallying beneath his softly spoken endearment. Her mouth...her mouth was meant to be kissed. Full lips, with the corners of her mouth curving naturally upward.