The Color of Ivy (10 page)

She had no idea how long he would be gone, but this was her window of opportunity.  Feeling far stronger than she had in days, an escape now would more than likely prove successful.  Even with the threat of bears in the vicinity, Ivy wasn’t worried.  She had awoken feeling her old self.  Her hunger for survival intact.

Still, he could have simply gone to relieve himself.

She craned her neck and watched as his figure disappeared further into the bush.  Deciding she had ample time, she quickly dropped
to her knees and forced her hands down to her tied ankles.  With expert swiftness, she had them untied in a matter of minutes.  Glancing over her shoulder and ensuring he was still nowhere in sight, she leaped to her feet and ran in the opposite direction Sam Michalski had left.

Moving
hurriedly through the thick bush, she worked the knots on her wrists while not sacrificing any valuable escape time.  The ropes came undone and she tossed them into the bush and fled faster down an incline and through a maze of trees.  She shot a look behind her several times, almost certain to find Sam directly on her heel.

To her relief, there was no one there.  Her foot was feeling better and did not slow Iv
y down.  The huge hours of sleep made her feel revitalized.  Strong.  He would not win.  She would not let him take her back to her certain death.

A gunshot rang out in the woods and nearly had a scream wrenched from Ivy’s throat.  Automatically, she ducked and covered her head.  Fear sliced through her veins.  He had found her.

Her throat tightened as panic rose up from her stomach.  She moved faster, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she did.  Where was he?  Still, she could not see him.

She pushed harder, faster, breaking through a cobweb of branches.  They reached for her, scratching and clawing.  Terror ate away at her insides.  A feeling of nausea overcame her.  Tears pooled in her eyes, blinding her vision.  Then suddenly the earth disappeared beneath her feet.

A scream ripped from her throat.  Her arms flared, her feet came out from beneath.  She was falling, her body sliding downward when she suddenly struck the bark of a tree.  Her arms reached out instinctively and latched onto her only source of survival.  It was not a very solid or secure tree, but she clung desperately to it.  Her treacherous bad ankle refused to cooperate as she tried frantically to get her footing.

Panic
wreaked havoc on her nerves.  Her pulse raced at treacherous speeds as she worked hard to right herself.

With both arms
grasping to her small token of security, she craned her neck to see where she had fallen.  A gorge, not wide in width and easily missed through the dense underbrush, fell deep far below her feet.  Perhaps not enough to kill her, but definitely enough to maim her.  Where the fall wouldn’t kill her, the wildlife would.

Her arms strained, pain shooting up their length.  Ivy knew they lacked enough strength to hold her weight much longer. 
Then, out of nowhere, she felt a hand close around her wrist.  Felt her body being dragged upward and over the edge of the ravine.  Ivy shot a glance up and a new fear flooded her veins.  A pure look of rage cloaked Sam Michalski’s face.

“You damn, stupid fool!”

The moment she was safely on level ground, she scurried away from his menacing scowl.  “Don’t ye be touching me.”

“Lady, you are not in the position to tell me what I can or cannot do.”  He took a threatening step closer.

Instinctively, Ivy scrambled backwards on her behind.  “Please, don’t kill me.”

That stopped him dead.  His scowl grew even darker.  “Ma’am, if I wanted you dead, I would’ve left you there at the bottom of th
e ravine.”

He reached for her non-too-politely and Ivy automatically flinched.  He dragged her out of the tangle of branches she had retreated into and hauled her up onto her feet.  With swift movements, he retied her wrists in a new knot Ivy had never seen the likes of before.  Fear gravitated in the pit of her stomach.

“Please.  Just let me go.”

His eyes shot a fierce glance at her before he moved quickly looping the rope around her neck
and tying the other end around her wrists.  He moved so fast Ivy had no idea what he was doing until it was too late.

“Didn’t want to have to do this,
Freckles.  But seeing you have a tendency to run, not to mention escape any other secure knot I’ve made, you’ve left me with no choice.”

Her eyes fell to the rope looped loosely around her neck an
d felt that same feeling of nausea rise in the pit of her stomach.

“How this here works is if you try and pull this cord secur
ing your wrists, like this,” he gripped the end of the rope closest to her wrists to demonstrate, causing Ivy to suck in sharply when the noose around her neck swiftly tightened around her throat.  “You’ll choke yourself.”

He released the cord allowing the rope to
slacken around her throat, and for Ivy to draw in a large gasp of air.  With a raspy voice, she said, “Ye can’t do this.”

He ignored her.  “Let’s get moving.”

His eyes did not meet hers again as he turned away and headed out the direction he came.  He stopped only to bend down and pick something up.  A dead animal.  She did not recognize the breed, but it was not very large.  In the side of its small body, was a huge gaping hole where a bullet had taken its life.  The shot she had heard earlier.  The one in which she thought had been fired at her, had actually been used to kill their meal.  He had gone hunting for their breakfast.

* * *

Hell, Sam had never been this angry with someone before in his life.  Not even with Daphne Sweeney.  In that situation, his anger had been directed at himself.  For being so damn naive, so gullible.  For being a fool.  A mistake he swore never to repeat.

Even with his mother he had never gotten this angry.  He pushed thoughts of her immediately from his mind.  He hadn’t thought of her in years, he wasn’t about to let this woman lead him back down memory lane.

The duo walked in a single line for several more hours, neither speaking.  They headed in a westerly direction through the thick underbrush so dense the sun, which could have helped penetrate some of the northern climate, was overshadowed by the packed forest.  Having lost some time with the incident at the ravine, then having to backtrack to the camp to retrieve his satchel and supplies, Sam perhaps was walking at a faster rate than necessary.  The sooner he reached town, the sooner he could rid himself of Ivy McGregor.

The woman was dangerous.  And not just to herself.  Even though it made his blood boil every time he pictured her clinging to
a tree not much thicker than his leg.  Truth was, Ivy McGregor was dangerous to Sam’s good sense.

* * *

It was nearing dark.  The sun had disappeared beneath the wooded horizon and grayness overcame the earth.  Ivy looked ahead of her and prayed Sam would stop shortly.  Her bad ankle was beginning to act up and hurting something fierce.  She struggled to keep up.  He used no lead to ensure she follow him through the forest, relying entirely on the rope anchored ominously around her throat instead.  It made Ivy livid.  The knot was one she had never seen the likes of before, and therefore, had no idea how to escape it.

If given the time, perhaps she could figure it out.  But out here where she was vulnerable to the wilderness, she needed to ensure she was not sitting prey.  At last Sam stopped near a small cluster of trees.  No sight of shelter to be seen.  Ivy was already freezing.  With the temperatures at their
all-time low during the nights, she didn’t doubt if the wildlife didn’t get her, than frostbite would.

Sam spoke for the first time since they headed out.  “We’ll make camp here.”

“There’s no shelter.”

He ignored her, instead concentrated on gathering wood.  Ivy slumped down on the ground, careless of where she landed.  She was far too tired to care.  What she needed was to get off her feet and fast.  She would have given anything to reach down and rub her bad ankle.  If she survived this ordeal, she knew somehow her leg would never be the same again.

“I’m going to go look for kindling wood,” he said, then bore his steely gaze into her face.  “Don’t move.  I won’t be so accommodating in assisting you off any ravine ledges this time.”

“Why didn’t ye just leave me be?”

His eyes darkened, but only repeated, “Don’t move.”

He was gone before she could reply.  Not that she would have.  The only thing she wanted at that moment was to lie down.  Even on a hard filthy ground as the one she
placed her head upon.

The forest was quiet.  Almost tranquil like.  The stillness had a comforting
effect on Ivy.  She fought it, but she felt her lids slide shut.  It was so welcoming, she couldn’t resist any longer if she tried.  How long she lay like that, she was not certain.  But when she heard a twig snap at Sam’s return, she opened her eyes and sat up.

To her surprise, it was complete darkness.  She must have dozed off after all, without even realizing it.  Turning her head, she looked in
to the shadows for Sam, wondering if he was having a difficult time finding his way back in the dark.  It crossed her mind temporarily to remain silent.  Let him get lost in the blackened woods.  But conscience won out and she opened her mouth to call out to him when she heard something that silenced her swiftly.

An animal snarled
, not more than ten yards away.  Alarm soared in her brain, sending all kinds of signals throughout her body.  Not the least of all, the one heading straight to her stomach.  Sucking in a swift gasp, she tried to remain calm, still, but she was to discover a far worse fear.  Somewhere to her left, she heard a second snarl.

Wolves.

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

Ivy scrambled backwards in the dark on her b
ehind, trying desperately to put some distance between her and the savage creatures.  Fear sealed her throat closed, preventing her from screaming out to Sam.  Then a third snarl came from somewhere directly behind her.

This time Ivy did scream.  Spinning around
, she faced the blackness unable to see her attackers.  “Go away!”

“Ivy?”  She heard Sam running in the woods toward her, obviously alerted by her scream.

She could have cried.  Never had she been so happy to hear Sam’s voice.

“Wolves!”

The moment the word wrenched from her throat, the snarls turned to vicious growls.  Then the sound of underbrush being trampled as several animals made their way through it.  Toward Sam.  Ivy screamed again.

A shot rang out in the night.  Then another.

The sound of a wolf’s deep guttural snarl filled the forest.  An image of Sam being mauled by the animal filled her mind.

“Sam!”

There was a horrible, deathlike sound of an animal lunging into the night and killing its prey.  Tears welled in Ivy’s eyes.

“Sam!” she
shouted again.  Why wouldn’t he answer?

A third shot lit up the forest and for the briefest moment Ivy saw him.  His tall frame silhouetted in the darkness.  Huge and powerful.

Scrambling to her feet, she ran in his direction.  Crying hard now, she stumbled over uprooted trees and called out his name again.

“Over here.”

Arms reached out and grabbed her just as she would have fallen yet again.  With a cry, she collapsed against his chest.  “I thought they killed ye.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before his arms came tentatively around her.  They felt like bliss.  Never before had she ever felt so safe in a man’s arms.  It only made the tears fall harder.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, giving her shoulders a pat.  “It’s all right.  They’re dead.”

“I thought it was ye.”  She pulled herself away from his body, trying unsuccessfully to
stop the flow of tears.  “If ye hadn’t come—“

”Oh Jeez,” he
muttered noticing her tears, then without warning, reached for her and pulled her back into his arms.  “Stop crying, Ivy.  Please.  Just stop crying.”

“I-I’m sorry.”  She choked back a sob, fighting to stem the flow.  Automatically
, she reached up to rub away the tears.  In her terror, she had completely forgotten the ropes secured around her upper body.  But as her arms came up, she inadvertently pulled on the noose around her neck.  The rope fastened around her throat in a matter of seconds.  She was stunned at how fast it worked.

T
he air in her lungs rushed out of her throat, sounding like a low train whistle in the distance, as it passed by her constricted throat.  Ivy gasped hard, trying to suck in air.  It was useless.  Fear soared to life.

With her wrists still bound together, she was unable to reach her throat and loosen the noose. 
Terrified and gasping for breath, she thrashed violently about trying to free herself.  And only resulted in tightening the noose.

“Hold still!”  Sam barked as he tried to hold her
flailing body.

But Ivy only lurched against him
wildly, trying to escape the choking grip on her throat, her breath wheezing sickly past her lips.