Read Online Sentimental Journey by Jill Barnett - Free Book Online Page B

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    J.R. looked down. The place was situated on a sheer cliff. They still had a long way to go.
    He didn’t dare take them on down. He couldn’t take the chance that the guy would see the rope move. So they just dangled there. Someday, J.R. figured, he would joke to his buddies that he came out of this assignment well hung.
    He had to give her credit. It had been a helluva drop and she hadn’t made a sound. She was so still she made his job easier.
    Her right ear was near his mouth so he whispered, “Now you know how a yo-yo feels.”
    She didn’t say anything. No sense of the ridiculous. After a minute more she asked, “How long do we wait?”
    “Till he leaves. The trees are in the way, so I can’t see him.”
    “Me either.”
    She did have a sense of humor. Good. They were both going to need it.
    Her breathing was soft and even.
    It was quiet in these mountains. Not much in the way of sounds. Noise always carried in the dead of night. You learned to take your voice down real low when your life was on the line. She was a smart cookie. She always placed her mouth very close to his ear when she spoke and her whispers were barely a breath of sound. He figured she’d taken her cue from him and he gave her points for that.
    “He’s leaving.”
    J.R. couldn’t hear anything.
    A moment later, a door closed.
    He waited. There were no more sounds. “Okay. Here we go again. Hang on . . . ”
    Her arms tightened around him, and he took them down, five feet at time, to the road below.

“CHEEK TO CHEEK”
     
    The truck bounced so hard over a rut in the road that Kitty hit her head on the roof of the cab. She flinched, reached up and rubbed her head, but kept quiet because Cassidy did. She was wedged in between him and the driver, a man he only called Sabri, who smelled of garlic, turmeric, and sweaty cotton baked by the sun. Cassidy was sitting on her right and had a crumpled map spread open on the dash.
    They had been on this road a long time. It was not the road she’d come in on. The grade was too steep and there were more hairpin turns. Without any warning they careened around a turn so sharp that she had to brace both hands on the roof to keep from falling into the driver. It felt like they’d turned on only the left two wheels.
    There was a horrible pause, the kind that precedes imminent disaster. She waited for the truck to roll over.
    The truck slammed down on the road so hard she felt it clear into her back teeth.
    But no one said a word.
    Sabri downshifted the gears a second later—the warning of another steep turn.
    She slid right, into Cassidy’s arm. The map he was holding crackled. He just shook it out before they hit another rut and she flew off the seat again.
    She hit her head so hard only a mute could have kept quiet.
    “You say something, Kincaid?” he asked.
    She could tell he wasn’t looking at her. His voice was directed toward the map. “I said forget the yo-yo. Now I know how a martini feels.”
    He laughed quietly just as Sabri downshifted again into another turn.
    She made a quick grab for the seat and got Cassidy’s thigh. She held on anyway, but as soon as they straightened she let go of his leg.
    He wasn’t looking at that map anymore. She could feel him looking at her for a very long time. When he didn’t turn away, she asked, “Are you a betting man, Cassidy?”
    “Sometimes. Why?”
    “Twenty bucks says you were just grinning.”
    “Still am, sweetheart. But don’t worry. If you want to cop a feel, I won’t stop you.”
    “Don’t get your hopes up. My hands aren’t that small.”
    He paused. “You’re pretty quick, Kincaid . . . for a blind broad.”
    “You’re pretty obnoxious, Cassidy . . . for an officer.”
    The truck rattled over a rut and almost drowned out his laughter.
    She braced her palms on the cab roof.
    “Here, this should help.” He dropped his bulky canvas pack on her lap.
    It weighed a ton. “What’s in here?”
    “A few