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“I need a few minutes.” Owen walked over to break off a low-hanging branch from a nearby tree. Using it much like a broom, he swept the grass so that the tire impressions faded.
The way he took these additional steps to avoid detection should not have been admirable. Yet his ingenuity was obviously one of the reasons he’d been successful in his criminal role. Criminal being the operative word.
“Okay, let’s go.” Owen placed the tree branch over the top of the truck’s hood. “Follow me. Keep in mind there isn’t much of a path here, so you’ll want to try to step where I do.”
“Got it.” She fell behind him, doing her best to follow his lead. Twice she nearly tripped over tree roots because she was watching Owen rather than the ground.
He’s an outlaw,she silently told herself and found herself repeating the words as a mantra as they walked.Owen is a criminal!
As if saying the words would cement the concept in her mind.
He lifted his hand and slowed to a stop. She huddled near a tree, listening intently. She couldn’t hear much beyond her own breathing. She loved hiking and had taken up snowshoeing in the winter, too, but she’d been on her feet for three twelve-hour night shifts in a row, and with only three hours of sleep, she wasn’t feeling up to par.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “Nothing.” He turned and flashed an apologetic look. “I thought I heard someone else moving through the woods. Like one of the bad guys. But now I think we probably kicked up some wild game, either deer or elk.”
She wasn’t a huge fan of hunting wild animals, but most of the men and many women participated in the concept. Not just for sport, though. Many families used the meat from their hunting to keep themselves fed all year round. She admired them for that.
And she had to admit that it was probably better for the hunters to help thin the herd rather than letting the animals get out of control.
“Are you okay?” He raked his gaze over her. “If you need to take a break, let me know.”
“I can keep up.” She forced a smile. “Lead on.”
He turned and resumed his hike through the woods. She followed, trying to keep up as promised.
Fifteen minutes later, Owen glanced back at her. “The two-track road is up ahead. We’ll take that the rest of the way to the house.”
“Great.” She didn’t even try to hide her relief. Emily didn’t like admitting weakness, but she had been choked by an assailant, forced to go on the run from gunman, then joined Owen in stealing a truck.
No wonder she was exhausted.
The two-track road didn’t appear to be a direct route to the ranch house. Walking beside Owen, she craned her neck, trying to spot the structure.
“We still have a half mile to go before you’ll see it.” Owen gestured to his left. “The house is located off to the side. They have an old barn and stable, too, but Doc mentioned they’d lost their horse shortly before I arrived. He actually gave me the horse’s antibiotics, which amazingly helped.”
“I told you that you needed them.” She’d tried to convince him to go to the hospital for antibiotics, but he’d refused.
“I know.” He shrugged that off. “There, can you see the house now?” He pointed to a dark-brown structure that could barely be seen between the trees. “I need you to stay back while I approach the place.”
“Why?” She shot him a confused look. “You said they were kind enough to take you in. I can’t imagine they’ll be upset that I’m here with you.”
“It’s not that.” He shrugged. “I don’t think they’ll be upset to see me. I just want to be sure everything is fine.”
She frowned but didn’t argue. What did a few more minutes matter? She’d find a fallen log to sit on and count her blessings.
They walked for another five minutes before Owen slowed to a stop. “Do you smell that?”
“What?” She sniffed, thinking of Maya Sullivan’s K9, a beautiful husky named Zion. Then she caught a whiff of what he meant. “Smells like a rotting animal.”
“Stay here.” Owen’s expression was somber as he broke into a run. She watched him go, then realized he was concerned about the Martins. If they were sick or needed help, she was the nurse in the pair.
Emily ran after him, wishing she would move as swiftly as he could. The sound of a dog barking reached her ears. Owen hadn’t mentioned a dog, but a small chocolate-colored lab loped toward them.
“Hey, boy.” Emily’s heart turned to mush as Owen knelt beside the dog, speaking in a low gentle tone. “Do you have a name, do you?”
She stopped beside him, reaching out to stroke the dog’s fur. She wasn’t an expert, but she sensed the pup was only three to four months old. The puppy wiggled with excitement, clearly happy to see them. The pup licked Owen’s face, then leaned over to lick hers too.