What was he doing?

She had her answer moments later when Axel stepped through the front door and eased the body of the fallen soldier onto the floor. Blood stained the man’s T-shirt around the fatal wound open in his chest. Axel’s face looked tight, his jaw clenched. Mystery’s heart went out to him.

With methodical precision, he stripped off his friend’s boots and tossed them her direction. The man’s socks came off next and followed in an arc across the shack. “Put them on.”

“They’ll be too big,” she blurted.

He zipped a stare in her direction, his blue eyes cool and demanding. “They’ll protect you from the hot sand and possible snake bite.”

Mystery hadn’t even thought of that possibility and she felt so stupid. She’d been completely unprepared to survive in the desert. Maybe not a surprise since she’d been dressed for nightclubbing, not roughing it. But the fact that she didn’t have the first clue how to take care of herself out here, that she had to rely so totally on this stranger who had just lost two of his fellow soldiers, that she had no idea how to shoulder some of his burden, disturbed her.

Rather than argue or squirm at putting on boots that had just come off a dead man, she drew the socks over her bare feet. They were still warm.

Beside her, Axel removed Alvarez’s jacket and set it aside, then grabbed the old duffel she’d stuffed. He dragged out the burlap scrap and gripped both ends in his meaty hands. His biceps bulged and his chest bunched, his strength obvious. The heavy fabric tore in half. She swallowed. Her heart skipped at the realization he could squash her like a bug. Again, she had to hope that in her desperation to be rescued, she wasn’t trusting the wrong man. But her instincts said he’d do what it took to get her to safety.

Without missing a beat, he tore one of the scraps in half again and shoved a piece in the toe of each boot. “Now put them on. They’ll still be too big, but walking through the sand will be exhausting enough. The more easily you’re able to walk, the less taxing it will be.”

She nodded, then remembered his request. “Yes, Axel.”

“Good.” He watched her, his gaze hawkish, missing nothing.

No doubt he saw her hands shaking because as soon as she’d slipped her foot into the first boot, he took her ankle in his big hands and straightened her leg, lacing it up with a few twists of his fingers and a couple of firm tugs. Mystery watched, fascinated. He moved so quickly and economically for such a huge man. No lumbering or fumbling. Axel was incredibly proficient, and she was so grateful in that moment.

He repeated the process with the other boot, then looked her way. “How do those feel?”

“Fine,” she said hoarsely.

With a satisfied nod, he got to his feet and offered her his hand. “Stand for me.”

Mystery stared, looking up his forearms roped with muscle, his strong biceps, his huge chest, up to a face that could have looked so harsh. But the understanding there made her tear up again.

She brushed the wetness from her chapped cheeks, sniffed her reaction away, then took his hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Adrenaline crash. We’ve all done it. That’s probably why you’re shaking, too. If you feel faint, let me know.”

“I’ll be fine.” She had to be. Mystery was determined not to let him down.

Without another word, he helped her to her feet. Her legs shook, and she felt as if she stood on wet noodles. But she drew in a deep breath. She’d suck it up and pull her weight. If they wanted to survive, she didn’t have a choice. Two innocent men had already died to save her, and she’d carry that guilt forever. She didn’t want Axel to suffer any more.

After another check of her blood pressure, pulse-ox, and pupils, he nodded. “Better. You good to go?”

“Yes.”

He re-stashed his medical equipment, then picked up Alvarez’s pack, shoving in the water bottles she’d saved before he tested its weight in his hand. With a frown, he drew his own off and handed it to her. “This one is lighter. Carry this as long as you can. If it gets to be too much, I’ll take it back. Let’s go.”

Mystery gaped at him, looked back to Alvarez’s fallen body, then out the shack’s little window. “We’re not . . .” Burying him? Where? With what shovel? Yeah, stupid question, so she swallowed it down. “Shouldn’t we wait until morning?”

“You said your captor worked alone, but he admitted that someone hired him?”

She nodded. “He never said who.”

“If he doesn’t check in with his boss soon, someone else might come out here to find you. I’d like to be long gone before that happens. As it is, we’re only going to have an hour or so before dark and we’re going to leave tracks in the sand. If we can be a few miles from here by nightfall, I’ll rest easier, knowing that we’ll be harder to find.”

Right. Again, he’d thought of things she should have. If she hadn’t been terrified and exhausted, if she’d had time to consider their quandary, she might have come to the same conclusion. But extenuating circumstances aside, Mystery felt as if what she didn’t know was holding them back.

“I understand. I’m ready. I’m strong. I can walk all night if we need to.”

“We might have to,” he said grimly. “I don’t love that idea, but I’d rather take my chances against the coyotes and mountain lions than the direct sunlight. My sunscreen is limited. We’ll use less water and energy if we sleep during the day and walk at night.”

Mystery understood. She wanted to ask how they’d know where they were going in the dark, but for the foreseeable future they’d just be walking in a general direction, she supposed. Maybe he’d been trained to follow the stars or something.

“That makes sense.”

Axel nodded, then knelt to his fallen friend, bending to close his unblinking eyes for the final time. “Bye, buddy. I’m sure as hell going to miss you.” He lifted Alvarez’s hand and drew off his wedding ring. “I know you’d want Rose and the baby to have this.”

Her heart sank. This man had been married and had a child. And he’d never see them again because she’d been stupid enough to be out at night where she shouldn’t have been, then unable to escape the man who’d held her prisoner.

“I’m so sorry . . .” She could barely get the words out past her broken voice.

Axel stood again, clearing his throat. He pocketed the ring, his expression locked up tight. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Three

THEY seemed to trek for miles . . . and miles. Endless sand and desert, dotted only by brittle brush, even as snowcapped mountains surrounded them. Mystery felt as if they’d be lost out here forever. The thought of never seeing her father again chilled her veins with icy panic. The weather didn’t help. The desert at night was freezing.

Axel had long ago ordered her to eat the sandwich her captor had left. He also put on his jacket and made her wear Alvarez’s. He had to be exhausted, too, but he just kept putting one foot in front of the other, looking up at the sky periodically, then checking an old-fashioned compass he’d pulled from his pack.

“How are you doing?” he asked suddenly in the silence broken only by the sound of footfalls on the never-ending sand.

Ready to fall over. Beyond exhausted. “Fine.”

He smiled grimly. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?”

Despite everything, she smiled. “My dad. Apparently, I’m not as good as the professional liars he works with. That’s what he calls actors. He stays behind the camera—rather than in front of it—more often now, but over the years, he says he’d heard every lie ever told.”