Storm Clouds. Cheryl Wolverton
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her wound, he paused to reach out and pull her hair from behind her ear.
Her gaze shot to his as if he’d done something of which she didn’t approve.
He admitted it was a very intimate gesture, but he’d had to touch the soft hair once again.
Sitting back, he studied the woman carefully, working to break the intimacy of his gesture. “I’m David Lemming. And you are?”
“Hurting from head to toe,” she answered. “Got any painkillers in that box?”
He lifted a brow at the way she’d avoided answering then reached in and pulled out some medication, which he handed to her. She didn’t blink, but slipped it into her mouth and swallowed without water.
He swallowed, his own throat dry. He felt a bit like choking as he watched her.
She glanced ahead and then finally cut a quick glance at him. “Angelina Harding.”
He nodded. Turning around to face the front as she did, he stared toward the bright dusty exit to their inner sanctum. “You were unconscious when they passed, but they have long since gone on down the road.”
“They’ll be back,” she warned.
He thought about that. Curious, he asked, “Why are they after you?”
She sighed and leaned back against the headrest. “I honestly don’t know, but I’m afraid it might have something to do with my brother.”
Though that made no sense to him, he didn’t ask for more information. “I need to call the authorities.” He snagged the radio in the car to call in—and saw the bullet holes. Consternation forced a temporary scowl to his face. “Well, that’s out.”
“Don’t you have a cell phone?” she asked. “I need to check on my brother.”
Incredulous he turned to look at her. He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to answer that one. “Where is your brother?”
“Wallabee.”
Surprised, he said, “Here in Australia? But you sound American.”
She nodded and raised a hand to her sore head obviously regretting the action. “He lives here. A missionary.”
David felt shock down to his toes. She’d said her name was Angelina Harding. Harding. He knew that name well, at least the last name, but until she’d said what her brother did, he hadn’t made the connection. Still, he couldn’t believe this beauty might be connected to the sweet quiet and yet homely man he knew. “Not Marcus Harding?”
She glanced at him and there was acknowledgement in her eyes. “You know my brother?”
Slowly, he nodded. “He led me to the Lord just about ten years ago.”
Her face twisted up as if she’d just tasted something sour.
“Great.” She looked him up and down. “So you’re one of those Christians too.” She leaned back into the chair and muttered “Just great.”
Surprised, he sat back. Marcus didn’t mention his sister much. Only that she’d moved, not keeping in touch with him and that he only heard about her occasionally. Things of that sort. “You’re his sister.”
“We’ve already established that.”
“What were you doing in that car?”
She sighed again, definitely in a worse mood than only a moment before—and all because he’d said he was a Christian.
“Okay. Here’s the quick version. My brother called me yesterday and insisted he needed me over here as soon as possible. It was some national emergency or something. We don’t talk much,” she added acidly. “Anyway, I rushed over here. Instead of him meeting me at the airport, these two goons show up and say my brother has sent them. Obviously, my brother hasn’t taken a hit out on me so he didn’t send them. Which means something must have happened to my brother. I need to get in touch with him as soon as possible.”
He watched the fluctuating emotions in her eyes and felt for her. Though she sounded angry and sarcastic, there was an underlying edge of worry in her voice and hurt in her eyes.
Compassion flooded him. “I can get you there. First thing first, however, sweetheart. I think we should get your head examined.”
She shot him a look.
He lifted his hands. “What?”
“That’s not a good way to say that. And I don’t need this small bump examined anyway. I need to see my brother.”
He frowned. “We’ll need to call the authorities.”
He could tell she wasn’t thrilled with that idea. “Fine. But we’d better get out of here before those men find us.”
He nodded. Reaching for the key, he turned it—and nothing happened.
“What’s the matter?” Angelina asked immediately.
David shrugged. He turned it again and there was only a low grinding sound. Battery light showed fine, temperature was okay…“We’re out of petrol,” he said and stared at the gauge.
“You’re kidding!” She scoffed and then leaned forward to peer at the gauges. Impatiently she tapped the glass over the gauge. It definitely registered empty.
“I just filled up this morning.” He shook his head. “That’s impossible.” He thought about tapping it himself but resisted the urge.
“Yeah,” the woman muttered and then groaned when her movement caused fresh pain in her right arm.
He turned the key off and got out of the Jeep. Going around to the side of the vehicle, he reached to open the gas tank and saw the problem.
“What is it?” Angelina asked lowering her hand from her eyes as the pain eased.
She knew already, he thought. If she was used to this, she surely knew. She was simply mollifying him. “Petrol tank was shot up. Our petrol is all on the ground—what was left, that is.”
She sighed. “Figured as much. Well, we can’t stay here.”
He disagreed, but then thought, if those guys had any brains they would come back looking. He nodded. “Very well. I know the cavern system here. It’s a bit cool, but we can follow this for two kilometers and come up away from here which might give us a safer chance to hitch a ride back on the main road.”
She shifted and pulled herself out of the Jeep.
David went around and helped her out. Catching her arms, he steadied her as she lowered her feet to the rocky ground. With concern, he asked, “The question is—can you make it, sweetheart?”
She glowered at him. “I can make it, but if you call me sweetheart one more time, you just might not.”
He found himself grinning. “A feisty sheila is better than an unconscious one. Follow me, stay conscious and we’ll be okay.”
She grunted something under her breath, and his smile widened. Despite the fact that this normal day had turned crazily upside down, he thought he might just enjoy the next hour or two with this woman.
Chapter Three
“Thank you.” Angelina nodded to the driver who had given them a ride to her brother’s mission. Evidently, many in the area knew her brother.
And as she stepped out of the vehicle, she could see why. This was the first town they’d come to since exiting the caves several miles back.
It stretched on for what seemed like forever. It sure hadn’t been like this years ago. A simple broken-down house had been all that’d existed. The house was still there, repaired and bigger. But along with that were two huge buildings nearby and a yard, a green landscaped yard that covered the entire area. Cemented walkways