Montana Sky

you’re my wife, right?”
    She pushed herself up. It would be too easy to just lie there and give up. “No, I’m not.”
    “No lousy piece of paper’s going to tell me different. You think you can run out on me, go to some freaking lawyer, call out the cops? They put me in a cell because of you. I got a lot of payback coming.”
    He studied her again. Pale, beaten. His. Taking one last drag, he flicked his cigarette into the snow. “You look cold, Lily. Maybe I’ll just take a minute or two to warm you up. We got time,” he continued, pulling the rope to drag her to him. “The way they’re going to be tripping over themselves trying to track me. Couldn’t track an elephant in this.”
    He pushed his hand between her legs. When all he saw in her eyes was revulsion, he pushed harder until the first flicker of pain bloomed. “You like to pretend you don’t like it rough, but you’re a whore like all the rest. You used to tell me it was just fine, didn’t you? ‘That’s just fine, Jesse. I like what you do to me.’ Didn’t you used to say that, Lily?”
    She stared into his eyes, fought to ignore the humiliation of his hand on her. “I lied,” she said coolly. She didn’t wince from the pain as he dug into her. Wouldn’t let herself.
    “Castrating bitch, I can’t even get a hard-on with you.” She’d never used to back-talk him. Not after the first couple licks. Unsettled, he shoved her back, then shifted his pack. “No time for this anyway. When we get to Mexico, it’ll be different.”
    Changing directions, he took her south.
     
    S HE LOST TRACK OF TIME . AND DISTANCE , AND DIRECTION . The snow had slowed, though the occasional boom of thunder still rolled over the peaks. She put one foot in front of the other, mechanically, each step a survival. She wascertain now that he wasn’t going to the cabin, wondered where Adam was, where he was looking, what he was feeling.
    She’d seen murder in his eyes at that last glimpse of his face. He would find her, she knew he would find her. All she had to do was live until he did.
    “I need to rest.”
    “You’ll rest when I say.” Worried that he’d lost his way in the storm, Jesse took out his compass. Who could tell where the hell they were going in this mess?
    It wasn’t his fault.
    “Not much farther anyway.” He pocketed the compass and headed due east now. “Just like a woman—bitch, moan, and complain. Never known you not to whine about something.”
    She’d have laughed if she’d had the strength left. Perhaps she had whined once upon a time about the paychecks that had gone missing, the whiskey bottles, the forgotten promises. But it seemed a far cry from whining about dying of exposure in the Rockies.
    “It’ll be harder for you if I collapse from exhaustion, Jesse. I need a coat, something hot to drink.”
    “Shut up. Just shut the hell up.” He stared through the dark and the lightly falling snow, shielding his flashlight with his hand. “I’ve got to think.”
    He had his direction. He had that, all right. But the distance was another matter. None of the landmarks he’d been careful to memorize seemed to materialize. Everything looked different in the dark. Everything looked the same.
    It wasn’t his fault.
    “Are we lost?” She had to smile. Wasn’t that just like him? Big-talk Jesse Cooke, ex-Marine, lost in the mountains of Montana. “Which way is Mexico?”
    And she did laugh, weakly, even when he whirled on her, fists raised. He would have used them, just to relieve his frustration, but he saw what he was looking for. “You want to rest? Fine. This is as far as we go for now.”
    He pulled her again through a snowdrift that reached the top of her thighs and toward the mouth of a small cave.
    “This was Plan B. Always have a Plan B, Lily. I scoutedthis place out more than a month ago.” And he’d meant to lay in extra supplies, just in case, but hadn’t had the chance. “Hard to spot. Your Indian isn’t going to find you here.”
    It was still cold, but at least it was out of the wind. Lily sank to her knees in relief.
    Delighted now that he’d reached the next stage of his plan, Jesse shrugged off his pack. “Got us some jerky in here. Bottle of whiskey.” He took that out first, drank deeply. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
    She took it, hoping that even false heat would slow the shivering. “I need a blanket.”
    “So happens I got one. You know I’m always prepared, don’t you?”
    He was