When Delilah left the Outpost, she was tired, hot, and a little sunburned. And except for her overreaction to the falling limb at the end, she also felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. Spending time with the Tanner family opened doors to places in her heart she had firmly locked a long time ago. With them, she could break out of the tidy box in which she existed, free to laugh and play without guarding every word and gesture. They made her feel welcome and wanted and like she was a person worth being around. The muscles in her arms ached from overuse, but it felt good.
The Tanners were apparently huggers, because first Charlee and then Josh wrapped her in exuberant embraces before she left. Josh’s hug was tighter and lasted significantly longer than Charlee’s and came with a chaste kiss on her cheek, followed by a killer grin and sexy wink. She winked right back and enjoyed the flash of surprise in his eyes and then shivered when it turned to a smoldering look that promised…more.
She and Charlee were becoming friends, which was very different from spending time with fellow students or other teaching assistants, which were more circumstantial acquaintances. Delilah hadn’t had a close friend since Andy left for Peru, so the possibilities today opened up made her smile.
On the downside, she still didn’t know who Mary was supposed to marry, despite her careful questions. Charlee had never met her mother or sister, though she’d seen her father and brother at the Corner Café a time or two over the years. Which didn’t help.
She hadn’t been able to head home until she’d checked her family’s campsite again, even though she’d known it was a long shot. They weren’t there, though a foolish part of her had hoped. She consoled herself by thinking through additional places to check as she drove. When she approached a sharp turn with lots of sand, she eased her foot off the accelerator and tapped the brakes. She knew if you didn’t do it right, you got bogged down and sank, truck or no truck.
Her foot went straight to the floor. “Doggone it. Now is not the time for the brakes to quit.” She pumped the pedal, hoping that would help, but nothing happened. No pressure.
Because of that, she went into the turn much too fast and had to use the handbrake to slow the truck. It helped a little but not enough to combat the sand. The truck stopped, and she gave it a little gas, but as she expected, the tires spun and she sank deeper.
After a few more tries, she accepted defeat and turned the ignition off. It wasn’t going anywhere tonight, so she’d better get moving. She took a minute to coat herself with mosquito repellent, grabbed her Maglite, and tried to figure out where her camper was in relation to her current location.
She looked up through the trees, saw the thick clouds, and laughed out loud. “Of course. It would be too much to ask that there be moonlight tonight, right?”
A rustling off in the bushes made her jump, and she shook her head at her own foolishness when a raccoon lumbered into view. Time to pull out all the lessons her father had taught her growing up. The irony did not escape her. The fact that those skills could help her now upped her confidence. She wasn’t a helpless, scared sixteen-year-old anymore.
Lesson one was to make a plan before rushing into action. She pulled out her phone, hoping to use the GPS, not really surprised at the little “no signal” bar at the top of the screen. “Alrighty then, moving on to plan B.” She scanned the area and decided to head toward the main road, where she should be able to get a signal. Once there, she could pull up a map or call somebody for a ride. Josh’s face immediately popped into her head, but she decided he’d be her last resort. Hadn’t she just told herself to keep her distance?
If she triangulated her location in her head, the main road would put her closer to her camper, so she headed in that direction. At least she thought she did.
When she came upon the same huge, lightning-damaged, downed tree for the third time, she admitted defeat. Somehow, she’d managed to wander around in circles. It was humiliating. She sank down on the log and pulled out her phone, still no signal. She tapped Josh’s name in the message app, and her finger hovered over the phone. What would she tell him? She figured “near the downed tree” wouldn’t be terribly helpful.
Her brain went around in circles, unsure, until she finally put the phone back in her pocket.
From the time they were little, her father had instilled in his children that if they ever got lost, to stay put. Wait for someone to come find them. But that was then, and this was now.
She stood and kept moving.
* * *
Today had been illuminating in more ways than one. Josh tapped a finger on the steering wheel of his official FWC F-150 as he left the main road and turned onto one of the many dirt roads that crisscrossed the forest. After Delilah left the café this morning, he’d called Hunter, told him what she’d said, and filled him in on the note and shotgun shell. He’d been prepared to argue long and loud for keeping his word to Delilah, but Hunter had simply said, “We’ll consider her an informant. You keep her safe and try to figure out what the deal is with her sister while we follow up on the guns and cash and see how that figures—or not—into Black’s murder.”
Something Oren had said earlier about Black and money nagged at him. But it was his evasion on the question of militias in the area that had brought Josh here. He figured John Henry Atwood had the answers he needed, but whether he’d be willing to share them with a government man like him was another story. He and Hunter had decided Josh would follow up on the militia angle, see how or if it fit.
When he arrived at the Atwood family’s campsite, he wasn’t surprised that they had cleared out and moved on. John Henry was one of the more rigid survivalist types who lived out here, convinced the government was just waiting to pounce and get into his business. Guys like him never stayed in one place for long and dragged their families from pillar to post on a regular basis.
He shone his Maglite around the campsite in case they had left any clues behind, but except the fire ring, there was no evidence anyone had been there. He climbed into the truck and headed back a different way, thinking he’d swing by Delilah’s camper, just to make sure she got home safely.
He hadn’t gone far when he ran across what looked like Delilah’s truck, stuck in the sand. He hopped out and ran over, concerned she was hurt, but the vehicle was empty. He shone his light around the area, but there was no sign of her. “Delilah? Are you here?”
He studied the ground, trying to figure out which direction she had gone. He only found one footprint but decided it was better than nothing and headed in that general direction, calling her name as he went. What had she been doing out here?
Probably the same thing you are. Trying to find her parents. And her sister.
What would it have been like to grow up with John Henry? The things she hadn’t said, combined with her worry for Mary, painted an ominous picture. He hoped she’d trust him enough to tell him the whole story soon. He really did want to help.
“Delilah? Where are you?” He kept calling her name as he walked, scanning the area with his flashlight.
He thought he heard a sound and hurried in that direction.
* * *
Even late at night, humidity hung like spiderwebs in the forest, sticking to your skin and weighing you down as you walked. The essential oil Delilah had gotten from Charlee had long since soaked into her skin, and she walked along waving a hand in front of her face, trying to keep the pesky bugs from gnawing on every bit of exposed skin. Dang, I hate the forest at night. Something rustled in the underbrush to her right, and she stopped, held herself motionless as she’d been taught, and waited until she could identify what she was hearing. She debated turning on her flashlight but didn’t want to scare whatever it was. Based on the sound, it was either an opossum, raccoon, or some other small mammal. If it had been something larger, it would have made more noise.
Images of the bear flashed through her mind, and she kept going. She sensed movement behind her and spun around. As she did, she caught her left ankle in a small hole and fell down with a startled cry. She glanced up just in time to see a white-tailed deer bounding away.
Shifting to a sitting position, she let out a small groan when she tried to move her ankle. She turned her flashlight on, relieved that there were no bones sticking out of the skin. She lightly ran her fingers over the area and decided it was probably sprained, not broken. Hopefully. Her snake boots probably kept it from twisting worse than it had.
She got up onto all fours and then pushed herself upright. The moment she tried to put weight on that ankle, it buckled, and she sank back down to the ground.
Frustrated, she scooted backward until she could lean back against a tree. She sat for a while, heart pounding, ankle throbbing, and tried to sort out the sounds of the night critters. Despite all her childhood drills, she felt like a complete and utter failure because the world around her seemed completely foreign and unknown and scary. So much for all her lofty thinking about how far she’d risen above her humble beginnings. She was lost in the forest in the dead of night, hurt, and she had no idea what to do next.
Except call Josh.
She pulled out the phone and sighed. Still no signal. She swallowed her pride and texted: Truck stuck in sand. Somewhere near my folks’ old campsite. Ankle sprained. Can you help?
She hit Send, watched the screen for a moment, and hoped it went through. Then she leaned her head back against the tree trunk and settled in to wait, determined not to jump at every rustle and chirp.
A different noise, one that seemed more stealthy, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She carefully looked around but didn’t see anything. Or anyone. Still, she was sure eyes were watching her. There probably were, she reminded herself. Animal eyes.
She refused to consider any other possibility.
* * *
Delilah must have gotten a ride with someone or walked home, because she wasn’t nearby. He stopped at another small clearing, called her name again, and shone his Maglite all around, hoping for a glimpse of her. What if she’d fallen? Hit her head or couldn’t answer? He took a breath, annoyed with himself. He didn’t normally overreact, but his concern for Delilah was making him act like a mama wood duck with only one chick left.
When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and read her text. Maybe it wasn’t worry so much as intuition where she was concerned. He texted back: I think I’m nearby. Shine a flashlight, call my name, I’ll find you.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Delilah! Delilah, where are you?”
He called several more times and then stopped to listen. When he heard a faint response, he took off running in that direction.
* * *
Josh’s text sent a surge of relief through Delilah, and she sagged against the tree, eyes closed. “Oh thank God.” Seconds later, panic hit. Worried he would give up and leave before he found her, she scrambled to her feet, wincing as she accidentally put weight on her left foot. One hand braced against the tree trunk, she shouted his name, waving her flashlight over her head like a shipwreck survivor who’d finally spotted a Coast Guard vessel.
When he raced into the clearing, Delilah launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back a few steps before he caught his balance, wrapping her tightly in his arms, murmuring, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
She pulled back to see his face, and suddenly, her lips met his—or his met hers, she couldn’t tell which—and they were kissing with the kind of desperation reserved for real shipwreck survivors. The kiss went on and on, sensations rushing over her faster than she could sort them out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer still, nuzzling his neck, sighing as he murmured in her hair and placed soft kisses along her jaw. His grip shifted, and she realized her legs were wrapped around his waist after she’d climbed him like a tree. His hands cupped her bottom, and when she crossed her ankles to get closer still, she winced in pain.
The moment shattered, and he slowly pulled back. She blinked, dazed and not at all sure she wanted the kiss to end. His eyes said he felt the same, but even so, reason had reasserted itself. He brushed her lips once more, then steadied her as she unwrapped her legs and lowered them to the ground. She winced again when her injured ankle touched down. His grip on her waist tightened. “Easy. Go slow.”
With infinite care, he maneuvered her down against the tree, then crouched beside her. He ran his flashlight over her with crisp efficiency before he set it off to the side so it wouldn’t blind them. His touch was gentle as he tipped her head up so he could see her face. “Are you okay? Which ankle?”
She met his concerned gaze. “Left one. And I’m fine. Nothing much injured except my pride.” She couldn’t believe she’d launched herself at him. “Sorry I, ah, overreacted.”
One side of his mouth curved upward. “The forest can be unsettling at night.” Then his grin widened. “But feel free to overreact anytime you want.”
They grinned at each other like idiots for a minute before she remembered she had to keep her distance. But dang, the man could kiss. He removed her boot, and the sharp pain jerked her back to the present. He ran his big hands from her calf all the way to her toes, then carefully rotated her ankle, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. When he was done, he gently slid her foot back into the boot, tucking the laces inside rather than tying them, since it was already starting to swell.
“The good news is I don’t think it’s broken.” He sent her the lopsided smile that turned her insides to mush. “The bad news is that I don’t think you’re going to be able to walk on it.”
“How far away is your truck?” she asked.
“Not too far if you have two good legs.” He stood and held out his hands to help her to her feet. The moment she was upright, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped her securely against his hard chest again. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt worse.”
He kissed her again, gently this time, and Delilah slid into the kiss like a warm bath. She absorbed the strength of his arms around her and the beat of his heart thundering against her chest, feeling cherished and protected in a way she never had before. Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled back, and their eyes met and held, awareness buzzing between them like an electrical current. The heat in his eyes sent a low hum through her body. It buzzed through her a split second before he slapped at a mosquito on her cheek. She yelped in surprise, and he grinned. “Sorry. Bloodthirsty little buggers. Let’s get out of here.”
Keeping one of her hands in his, he turned his back and crouched. “Climb on. I’ll carry you back to my truck.”
Delilah was shaking her head no before he finished speaking. “You can’t carry me. I’m way too heavy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my manly strength?”
The absurdity surprised a laugh out of her. “I would never doubt your manly strength, Officer Tanner.”
“Then climb on, and let’s get out of here already.” He crouched lower. “And stop calling me Officer Tanner.”
Since she didn’t have much choice at this point, Delilah gingerly climbed on. He scooped her up, piggyback style, and set off into the forest. He spun her around a few times as he walked, singing an off-key version of the seven dwarves song. “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s through the woods we go,” then he whistled the rest, making up words here and there.
Delilah laughed and attempted, badly, to sing along, appreciating his attempt to distract her from her throbbing ankle. She took her cue from him and decided to enjoy the ride, the feel of her arms wrapped around his neck, his rock-hard arms supporting her as he strolled through the forest as though she weighed nothing. She was used to thinking her way through life, but with Josh, she was learning to simply enjoy the moment.
After a few minutes, he asked, “What were you doing out here so late? Looking for your family?”
“That was the plan, but they’re gone. What about you?”
Delilah could feel him smile. “Great minds and all that. I was here to talk to them, too, but they’ve obviously moved on again.”
“They don’t usually stay in one place for very long. At least they didn’t when I was growing up.”
“From the little I know of them, that seems to be their typical pattern.”
She held her breath after she asked, “Any ideas about where they might’ve gone?”
Josh thought for a moment. “There’s no set pattern that I can see.”
“There wasn’t when I was a child, either. At least not one I noticed.”
He scooted her up a little higher when she started slipping, and he asked, “So what happened to your truck?”
“The brakes quit. They were fine on the way here, but as I was leaving, they gave out.”
They found her truck, with his beside it. He gently set her on the passenger seat, then climbed in behind the wheel.
“What do you mean by ‘gave out’? Did they go soft on you?”
Delilah shook her head. “No. Gave out as in my foot went all the way to the floor.”
“That’s not good. Let me take a quick look before I drive you home so I have an idea what we’re looking at.”
“You don’t have to—”
Josh sent her a look. “Take the help that’s offered, Delilah.” He cranked the engine and turned on the AC, then maneuvered his pickup so the headlights illuminated her hood.
He drove her truck a few hundred yards before coasting to a stop. She let out a relieved sigh. Nothing was more annoying than a vehicle issue that magically disappeared when someone tested it. Josh climbed out of her truck, and next thing she knew, he was lying half under it, flashlight in hand.
When he brushed the sand off his back and returned to his truck several minutes later, his expression was grim. “You said the brakes were fine on the way out here, right?”
“Yes. I haven’t had any problems. Why?”
Josh tapped a finger on the steering wheel, then turned to face her, eyes hard, looking every inch a cop. “Someone cut your brake lines. I took a picture with my phone, but from what I can see, this was definitely deliberate.”
A chill slithered down her back. Would Aaron or John Henry have done that? Or was this the work of whoever had left the bullet and note? After a lifetime of living under the radar, being singled out like this made her feel naked and vulnerable. Why was someone doing this?
She swallowed hard before she asked, “What happens now?”
“Hunter and Pete and I will take the truck to the Outpost, document what was done, and I’ll fix the brake lines for you. It will be quicker and definitely cheaper.” He grinned as he said that last bit.
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Indecision swamped her. She wasn’t comfortable asking for help, but she needed a vehicle to search for Mary.
“You didn’t ask, Delilah. I offered. Big difference.”
She couldn’t find words, so she simply said, “Thank you.” The man continually surprised her with his kindness.
The truck’s motion must have lulled her to sleep, because next thing she knew, Josh had scooped her into his arms and carried her into her camper. He laid her down on the futon and propped several pillows under her ankle before he rooted around in her tiny bathroom for supplies. After he carefully wrapped her ankle, he tucked an instant ice pack around it. “You have some ibuprofen?”
Delilah told him where they were and dutifully swallowed several with the water he handed her. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Josh didn’t answer, just covered her with an afghan and sat down at her tiny dinette. “Get some rest. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow.”
When it dawned on her that he wasn’t leaving, she pushed herself up on her elbows. “I’m fine, really. There is no reason for you to sit at my kitchen table all night. Go home.”
Josh glanced up from his phone. “I’ll feel better if I keep an eye on you.”
“I’d rather you leave,” she shot back, then sucked in a breath and added, “please.” They faced off across the small space. She was perfectly capable of caring for herself, thank you very much, and besides, he needed sleep. Therein lay her dilemma. Her futon was the only bed, and if he climbed in here with her, there was no way she’d be able to keep her hands off him. Josh Tanner stirred feelings in her she didn’t know what to do with and that, frankly, scared her spitless. If she slept with him, instinct said her heart would be tied to his in ways that wouldn’t be fair. Not to her or to him, since her days here were limited. But she couldn’t put any of that into words, so keeping her physical distance seemed the safest choice.
Josh didn’t argue. He simply stood, kissed her on the forehead, and said, “Sleep well. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
“You don’t need to—”
He walked out and shut the door before she finished her sentence. Delilah flopped back down on the pillow and pulled the afghan up under her chin. It was too hot for it, but it made her feel safe. Before she could muster up the energy to go tell Josh he was free to leave, she fell asleep.