Page 41 of Mountain Captive

“He can’t prove a crime. A grown woman has a right to refuse medical care. And she probably did refuse at first. Members of the Vine are taught that relying on outside care is a sign of weak faith. No one wants to be accused of that.”

She turned and began walking back down the way they had come. This glimpse of the Vine—or what she thought was the Vine—had changed the mood of the day. Chris now walked with her head down and shoulders bowed, unspeaking.

He wanted to tell her to cheer up. She wasn’t part of the group anymore, and they had no hold on her. But he dismissed the impulse as soon as it surfaced. Some of the members of that group had knocked him out and broken into her home. They had threatened her verbally and physically. She had every right to be afraid and to wonder if she would ever be rid of them.

So he settled for moving up beside her on the trail. “It may not feel like it, but you’ve got a lot of friends in this town,” he said. “Every member of search and rescue would help you if you asked. Jasmine thinks of you like a daughter. Bethany thinks you’re a superhero—and she wouldn’t be wrong. And of course, there’s me.”

She glanced up at him. “And what are you?”

“I’m just someone who likes being with you,” he said. “I’m the one who’ll break the trail ahead or stand by your side or watch your back. Whatever you need.”

She didn’t answer right away. He started to ask if he had overwhelmed her with bad-romance dialogue when she said, “I’ve never had anyone to do those things before. I’m usually charting my own path.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m here. If you need me.”

She straightened. “And what’s in it for you, Doctor?”

He flashed his most insolent grin. “I get to hang out with a hot younger woman. It does wonders for my image, I tell you.”

As he had hoped, she burst out laughing, then punched his shoulder. He laughed too. “For that, I think you owe me dinner,” she said.

It’s a date,he thought. But no, he wouldn’t use the D word. He didn’t want to scare her off. “That’s a great idea.” He hooked his thumbs beneath the straps of his pack. “First one down gets to pick the restaurant.” Then he set off, long strides eating up the distance.

“That’s not fair. You have longer legs than me,” she called.

“What was that? I’m an old man, remember? I’m probably losing my hearing.”

He was still enjoying her laughter when she blew past him, shoes raising puffs of dust as she raced down the trail.

Nineteen years ago

“MOM! MOM!Peace and Victory and I were playing by the creek, and we saw the biggest fish!” Elita skidded to a stop in the middle of the trailer’s main room and stared at the boxes stacked around the room. “What’s going on?”

Her mother looked up from one of the boxes. “We’re moving. Come on. You can help me wrap these dishes.” She indicated the stack of plates on the coffee table beside her.

“Why do we have to move?” Elita stamped her foot. “I like it here.” There were the woods to play in and the little creek, and the secret playhouse she and her friends had made with sticks and vines in a spot no one knew about but them.

“The Exalted says it’s time to move, so we’re moving.” Mom didn’t look any happier about the relocation than Elita.

“We’re moving to an even better location.” Her father came into the room, carrying the stack of old blankets they used to cushion fragile items for the move.

“How do you know that?” her mother asked. “This was supposed to be a better location, too, but we’ve only been here six months, and already we have to move.”

“The Exalted said it’s not fertile ground,” her father said.

“Is he planting a garden?” Elita asked. Some of their neighbors had little gardens planted around their tents or trailers. Elita and her friends sometimes dug in the dirt and “planted” flowers and twigs and things. She liked playing in the cool dirt.

“He means there aren’t many people around here who want to learn the Exalted’s teachings.” Her dad patted her head.

“Or maybe the locals have complained about us squatting here,” her mother said.

Her father’s expression darkened. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” he said. “If people really understood the gift the Exalted could give them, they would welcome us with open arms and beg us to stay as long as possible so they could hear his teachings.”

Her mother bent over the dishes again, shaking her head. “There are some old newspapers in the kitchen, Elita,” she said. “Would you get them for me?”

She had just picked up the stack of papers when someone knocked on the back door. She walked over and opened it, and stared, open mouthed, at the man who stood there. The man—tall and broad shouldered, with a mop of blond hair and piercing blue eyes—stared back at her. He reminded Elita of a picture of Jack in the copy ofJack and the Beanstalkher mother had read to her. “Hello, Elita,” the man said. “Is your father here?”

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

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