“Thank you,” she whispered, turning to face him. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “You saved my life.”

“Are you lucid enough to explain what you’re doing here? I left you in front of a roaring fire with a book.”

She lowered her gaze and began picking at a button on his shirt. “Kelly called me,” she whispered.

He stiffened, then lifted her face up. “Kelly’s dead, Emma.”

“I know now,” she whispered. “Wayne tricked me. I think he killed her. How … how do you know Kelly’s dead?”

Ben cupped her head, pulling her face into his chest. He couldn’t look at her anguish any longer. “Atwood and I decided Wayne’s coordinates were her grave.”

She popped her head back up to look at him. “When?”

“A few days ago, after we came out here and looked around ourselves. The investigators I have working in New York couldn’t find a trace of her; it’s as if Kelly disappeared off the face of the earth ten years ago. And when I came out here, it was as if … that’s when everything added up.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, wishing he could soothe her sadness. “Your sister would have contacted you if she were still alive. She never would have abandoned you and Mike. People mature. They regret decisions. They wonder. Kelly couldn’t have stayed away. That meant she must be dead.”

Emma buried her face in his chest with a sob. “I’ve spent the last ten years of my life hating my sister, and all this time she’s been dead!” She looked at him, grabbing his shirt in a desperate grip. “She never abandoned us. She never abandoned Mikey. But … she did leave a note. She said she was leaving, and that she would call us.”

“There’s a good chance Kelly wasleaving. I think she was scared of Wayne, and she felt the safest thing to do for Mike was to leave. I also think she did plan to contact you when she was safe. Only she never made it out of Medicine Gore—Poulin got to her first.”

She hid in his shirt again. Ben wrapped her up in as fierce a hug as he dared, and rocked her back and forth.

“He killed my father.” Emma looked up again, and Ben saw outrage through her tears. “Then he set it up to look like you were responsible!”

He sighed, not really surprised, as he brushed the tears from her face. “Yeah. And it worked well for him.”

“Until Kelly found out.”

“And you went snooping in his room.”

“He’s the one who got the environmentalists involved, too. He knows this area is slated for clear-cutting next summer, so while he appearsto be on the side of the mills, he’s been quietly stirring up trouble.”

“The logging operation might have uncovered Kelly’s remains. And Poulin knew he would be the prime suspect.”

“We have to stop him before he gets away,” she said, trying to sit up.

He held her down. “We’ve got to get ourselves out of here first. Poulin doesn’t know I’m with you. He thinks he’s hunting a battered, half-drowned woman, so he’ll have wasted a lot of time looking for you downstream. Does he know about this cave?”

She settled back against him. “He must. He’s cruised these woods for the mills. This is his backyard.”

Ben sat up, bringing Emma with him. “Then I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep moving. Do you think you’re up to it?”

She stared at him with an expression of surprise.

“What?”

She suddenly hurled herself into his arms and kissed his chin. “I loveyou, Ben.”

“I’m pretty sure we established that fact last night,” he said with a chuckle, feeling her body was once more producing its own heat.

She popped her head up, clipping him in the chin. “Was it just last night?”

Ben kissed her deeply, tasting her sweet aliveness. He urged her mouth open with his tongue and invaded it with the passion of a man very grateful to have his woman alive and well again.

She kissed him back, matching his desperation. Within seconds Ben felt sweat running down his forehead, and it had nothing to do with the warmth of the cave.

He broke off reluctantly, and gently held her away from him. “We’ve got to keep moving, Emma.”

Her flushed face suddenly brightened. “Beaker’s out there somewhere.”

“What?”

“It’s amazing—he followed Wayne’s truck all the way out here! He saved me, attacking Wayne just as he was going to shoot me.”

“Where’s Beaker now?”

“Probably stalking Wayne.”

Ben smiled. “Then it’s three to one. Poulin doesn’t stand a chance.”

“He may be crazy, Ben, but he’s also smart. Don’t underestimate him.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He started repacking his backpack. “What’s our best way back home?”

When he didn’t get an answer, Ben looked up to see Emma holding Homer’s cage, a speculative look in her eye. “We can send a message. When Mikey gets home from school, he’ll check out the coops. We can use Homer to call in the cavalry.”

Ben reached into his pocket for the message canister and a pen. “What should we say?” he asked, pulling out the piece of paper inside.

“Just write, ‘Trouble. Medicine Creek. Poulin.’ And sign it Emma and Ben,” she instructed as she took Homer out of his cage.

Ben saw her kiss the bird on his head.

“I’m glad the fumes didn’t get you, little one,” she whispered, holding the bird for him to attach the canister.

Then Ben walked to the entrance of the cave and released him.

The bird soared into the sky, circled once, and landed in a tree a hundred yards away.

Emma sighed. “He does that sometimes. He’s just learning.”

“Great.” Ben turned and scanned the forest below, but he couldn’t see very far. The trees were thick, growing right up the side of the mountain to the base of the cliff. He turned back to help Emma out of the small entrance. “Are you okay to travel?”

She was a god-awful mess. Her long hair was a tangle of knots, half-dried and still wet in places. Her face looked like a prizefighter’s after a rough bout in the ring. His clothes hung from her slender frame, pooling into a folded mass of wrinkles at her ankles. He couldn’t see her hands; the sleeves of his sweatshirt were so long that they dangled empty-cuffed.

“I can make it.”

He frowned. “Maybe you should stay here. I could turn the tables on Poulin by doing a little hunting myself since I have the element of surprise.”

“No offense, Ben, but your battlefield is usually a boardroom. This is Wayne’s turf. And he’s truly insane.”

She started down the mountain.

There wasn’t one blasted spot on her body that didn’t ache, and there were a few places that outright pained her. But Emma kept walking, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, determined to lead Ben out of the woods.

This was a hell of a mess, and it was all her fault.

If she hadn’t gone snooping in the first place she’d be home right now, making wedding plans. Instead, she was running for her life with Ben, away from the man who’d murdered her father and sister.

“Slow down, Emma,” Ben said. “You’re going to burn out.”

They had twenty-six miles to go before they were safe, but she stopped and waited for him to catch up. She knew he was slowed down from watching their back trail.

“We’re not going to make it before dark,” she said when he reached her. “We’ll have to find a safe place to bed down.”

“Any suggestions?” he asked, brushing the hair off her forehead.

“I’ll tell you if you share some of that food in your pack,” she teased.

The poor man looked so stricken, Emma was immediately sorry for asking. “Lord, Emma, you must be starving,” he said as he shrugged off the pack.

She took the pack and looked inside, and found a container of Elmer Fudge cookies. “No more than you,” she said, opening the lid and grabbing one. She popped the entire cookie in her mouth, and immediately thought of Beaker. Was he still stalking Wayne?

“What’s the plan?” Ben asked around his own mouthful of cookie.