Hiding Out At The Circle C

Cam moved toward his truck. 'Cam?' Nellie called out from the door. 'Bring her home safe and sound.'

'I plan to,' he said grimly. 'I plan to.'

* * *

The taxi ride was blessedly long, and it was dark, quiet. Haley shut off her brain, afraid to think. Leaving as she'd come, she had only the clothes on her back and a few dollars in her purse.

She caught her reflection in the rearview mirror of the cab. Yes, she looked like the same woman who'd come to Colorado. The fear was still there, the wariness. But something had changed on the inside. She no longer lived for the sole purpose of work. She'd experienced love, which made the hopelessness of this situation all the more unbearable and terrifying.

This time, she'd die. And this time she cared, because she had so much to lose.

The taxi came into Colorado Springs and she knew she'd be at the airport in a matter of minutes, then with Branson in no time at all. Every passing second brought a new and overwhelming sense of nostalgia. She'd never again see the deep blue skies of Colorado, never again see the sharp mountain peaks and lush pine foothills she'd grown to love.

Her heart started pounding the minute the airport came into view and by the time they'd turned into the loop of terminals, she was near a full-fledged panic.

She couldn't go through with it.

Images of Cam came to mind: the way he'd looked at her that first night at the airport, accepting her without question, how he'd made her laugh, live… love.

He was her life.

But Haley knew she had to go inside. Knew, too, she had to hurry. If she didn't and Branson got tired of waiting, who knew what he'd do.

She couldn't risk it.

'Are you getting out or what?' The cabdriver tipped back his hat and gave her an impatient look.

He couldn't have been more than twenty, she thought dully. So many years left. Again, that impossible lump stuck in her throat. She felt like screaming at him, You're so young, so free. Go live!

Instead she paid him, her nervous hands fumbling for change. He sped off without a backward glance, leaving her to her private hell.

With a deep breath and a growing sense of horror, Haley stepped up to the terminal, her insides quivering with fear and regret.

What if she was doing the wrong thing? What if Branson hurt her friends anyway?

He wouldn't, she assured herself, staggering slightly. He wouldn't. But she couldn't stop thinking about it. Her stomach roiled painfully, reminding her she hadn't eaten. A sharp pain stabbed through her. Her ulcer, of course. It was back with a vengeance, and worse than ever.

Pushing past a large group of Japanese tourists, she blindly ran down the hallway and into the first women's rest room she found.

She threw up, then rocked back on her heels and stood shakily. Staring at herself in the mirror, she slowly shook her head. She couldn't give in to self-pity. Not yet. Not until she was absolutely positive Branson was on a plane headed far away from the people she loved. Then, and only then, would she find a way to contact the authorities, to lead them to Branson. It would mean her own capture, of course, but she would have to trust the system to prove her innocence. Nothing mattered-except getting Branson put away.

She rinsed her mouth and took a long drink of water from the sink. Then she took her ulcer medication. She'd have to accept the fact that without the happiness of freedom, without Cam, she'd need it.

Other people shuffled through the rest room, giving her no more than a cursory glance. Even in her haggard state, she didn't look out of the ordinary-just like one of a thousand weary travelers. Head held high, she started back toward where she'd come. She checked the huge monitor overhead to see which gate she needed, then started walking, her mind carefully blank.

She'd forgotten how noisy an airport could be. People walked, ran or carted to their destinations. Talking, screeching, crying… in several languages. The dull roar seemed to vibrate mockingly in her head.

Ahead, she faced three sets of glass doors that led to the next terminal. This was it. But just as she reached for one of the doors, a steel grip clamped down on her arm, spinning her around by force. As she turned against her will, she swung her purse up high and hard.

And clobbered Cam in the face with it.

He let go of her to grab his nose and she gaped at him. 'Cam!' He winced and she took a step backward, colliding with the glass door. Oh, God, Cam. Here.

He tweaked his nose. 'You nailed me.'

'What are you doing here?' she whispered, glancing wildly around. Please, please, she chanted to herself desperately. Don't let Branson see him.

'That was my question for you.'

If Branson thought she'd brought him, if he saw them together… 'Get out of here. Now,' she demanded, pushing at him. He didn't budge and she shoved him again.

He dropped his hands from his face and looked at her. Everything he felt for her, everything he was, swam in those dark, aching eyes; and her heart-the one she'd been trying to harden over the past several hours-slowly cracked open.

'You had no right to follow me. No right at all.' Her voice wobbled.

'I thought we'd covered all this.' He shook his head and reached for her. 'Some genius you are.'

She backed up a step, unable to believe that this nightmare of hers was about to come true before her very eyes. 'Cam, you've got to go. Now.'

'Can't do that.' Though she tried to evade him, he took one of her hands in a grip that might as well have been steel handcuffs. 'I'm sorry, Haley,' he said flatly. 'But we're going to play this my way for a few minutes.' He turned and half dragged her back the way she'd come.

'Cam,' she whispered furiously, beating him on the shoulder with her free hand. 'Don't do this. Please, don't do this!'

Capturing her other hand, he continued walking, moving even faster. 'You could have told me, damn you,' he said in a voice just as quietly furious as hers. Several people glanced at him as he muscled their way through a horde of travelers, but Cam paid no attention. He shoved open the front doors of the terminal and yanked her out into the cold, dark evening.

She stared at the beautiful Colorado night sky she'd not thought to see again. She tried again to squirm free of the painful grip he had on her wrists, but his bruising hold merely tightened as he craned his neck to check for traffic. Calmly, ruthlessly, he pulled her across the street.

'Cam, wait. You have to wait.'

He didn't even look at her. On the ground floor of the parking structure, he headed purposefully toward his truck. Fury rolled off him in waves.

'Cam, stop!'

'Nope,' he said in a deceptively mild voice, still tugging her along. Easily, he held both her wrists in one band while he fished for his keys.

'Cam!'

'Save it, Haley,' he ordered. 'Later.'

She had to get him safely away, even if she had to use his feelings for her to do it. 'You're hurting me,' she said quietly, letting her voice crack.

He loosened his hold with a surprisingly obscene oath.

'It's a free world. I can leave if I want to.'

'Haley, I know.'

'Look,' she said desperately, glancing over her shoulder to see how far she'd have to run back to make it. Quite a distance, she thought frantically. And she still had to get Cam to leave. 'Sometimes these things just don't work out and-'