Targeting the Teacher

Part 4

Chapter 4

It was the heat that woke him.  Even when his body had begun to ache, even when light had streamed through the blinds, he had stayed still.  The heat had only worsened, almost mocking him with the reminder of how cold he had been the night before.  Had the woman let him inside her cabin?  Had she finally succumbed to his knocking?  Or had they found him?  He had done everything he could think of to throw them off his track.  Jumping into the river, letting it take him downstream to cover his tracks and scent.  He had even gone as far as to lead a false trail away from this place. 

However, even now, his nerves ate at him. His best bet was to stay away from the limelight for a while, just to make sure they didn’t know where he was.  There weren’t many places in these mountains to head towards, but they wouldn’t think he went to someone’s cabin.  If it were abandoned, yes, but with an inhabitant, they would never believe he would put them in danger.  They were wrong.  He hadn’t wanted to do it, knew that it would cause more problems than not, but the only way he was getting out of this alive was to do the opposite of what they thought he would do.

To be honest, even with him doing the opposite of what they would think, he wouldn’t be surprised if they came knocking on the same door he had pounded his fists against.  The thought made him open his eyes, and as soon as his they focused on his surroundings, a small twinge of panic clenched his chest.  The blanket that had been wrapped around his body was now draped around his waist, where it fell over the couch.  Still, it was enough for him to realize something; his pants were gone. 

Jerking up, his eyes darted around the as the panic in his chest began to double.  He needed those damned pants.  The last year of his life counted on him finding those pants.  Not being able to take it any longer, he swung his feet off the couch, only to have them connect with something hard.  His body froze as someone groaned in a mix of pain and annoyance.  Eyes following the noise, he watched as what he thought was just a blanket began to move.

Mumbling sounded from the other side of the blanket as someone swiped at it.  He stared, feeling a small smile curl the corner of his lips as the person underneath still tried to find their escape.  When a hand finally came into view, he couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping his mouth.  What a way to wake up, he thought as a clump of red hair came into view. 

It was the hair that brought it all back.  When she had thrown open the door, it was only the hair that he had seen before she slammed the door in his face.  If he listened to his father’s wisdom, that hair meant one thing, the woman, who was still trying to escape from her confinement, had a fiery temper to match that hair.  But, as she finally escaped and narrowed her sleepy, green eyes on him, he didn’t know what to think.

“You kicked me,” she snapped while giving the blanket one last shove.

The small smile that had frozen on his face widened.  “It was an accident.”

“Should have left you outside.”  The words were mumbled as she eased to her feet, but there was no doubting what she had said.  His father was right; he had a fiery tempered redhead on his hands. 

“Hey, Red—”

“Do not call me that,” she interrupted as she stared down at him.  Anger flashed in her already lively eyes, making him want to continue to annoy her.  “I hate when people call me that.  In every single book that I’ve read, every time there is a red haired heroine, the hero calls her Red.  Who thought that was a good nickname?  My theory is that he just couldn’t remember her name.  Her hair, can’t really forget what color that is.”

He chuckled, making her snap her mouth closed.  When her glare intensified, he raised his hands in surrender.  “I’m sorry, but you remind me of someone I know.”