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Once again, Myla lay covered by a two-hundred-pound blanket of sexy man. Once again, she wanted to cower, stay protected, let him face the danger.
Instead, she squirmed to get free. Well, she tried to but Sawyer had her completely controlled. She couldn’t move a single part of her. When she wriggled a second time, he patted her hat and hushed her.
Knowing he was the expert, she hushed. Which gave her too much time to think. And worry. She didn’t want to think about what kind of monster could do something so hideous to a living creature. The hide hadn’t been clean and the bits still attached to it had made her want to vomit.
Worse, she didn’t want to remember the devastation she’d seen in Sawyer’s eyes. The pain had been so vivid, it had felt like a punch to her own gut. He’d talked about how much the integration of the wolves had meant to his dad. Having never known hers, she could only imagine how powerful that would be.
She hoped whatever had exploded had nothing to do with them but she hadn’t seen anything else on either drive across the lake. The noise had been bigger than a backfire. Maybe a wood stove exploded in a remote cabin. Or a snowmachine crashed into a tree.
She’d been a fool to come out here. So arrogant to think she could help when all she wanted to do was run and hide. She was too slow, didn’t know anything about the woods or winter. And her bravery quota had been all used up.
Worse, it put Sawyer in danger. He was a SEAL. He’d protect her first. Probably at all costs.
She’d have to make sure she wasn’t a hindrance. As soon as they got back to the sleds, she’d hightail it across the lake and get someone who could actually help Sawyer track down the nutbar.
Sawyer continued to stroke and soothe her. Even when his attention was turned elsewhere, he offered her comfort. Definitely a protector.
Nothing else exploded and Myla slowly relaxed. If they were in immediate danger, Sawyer would be doing something other than lying there.
On top of her.
Giving her body all kinds of delicious ideas. All of which were much better than thinking about the poor wolf or the guy who’d done that to the wolf.
Needing the reprieve, Myla let her mind focus on those sensations. Her body cradled his, even with all the clothing between them. His hard muscles pressed him firmly down onto her.
Everywhere.
She wanted to press into him and inhale some of his strength and power.
She wanted.
Sawyer’s gaze tracked down to hers and after a moment, the omnipresent blankness dissipated. Heat took its place. Enough heat to have every shiver disappear in an instant. And to have shivers of an entirely different kind replace them.
Unable and unwilling, to stop herself, Myla reached up and brushed her lips over his. Soft. His lips were soft. Maybe the only soft part of him.
He didn’t retreat, so she let her lips trace over his. Tasted him. Teased his lips to open.
When they did, she didn’t hesitate but dived right in. Her body filled with heat and all her cells tried to climb over each other to get closer to him. The man could kiss.
The hand that had been soothing her kept moving but the tone changed. More pressure. More demand. More.
Sawyer’s hand slid under her hat, cupping her head and tilting her the way he wanted.
The kiss deepened and Myla could have sworn the zip she continually felt when they touched was an actual tether connecting them, bringing them closer.
And she wanted closer still.
His thumb caressed her jawline and pleasure built in every part that counted, obliterating everything else. It took over her mind, her body, her world. She was consumed. Filled. Lightened.
And hot. So incredibly hot.
Then the heat was gone. He was gone and the wind whipped in to replace his heat and fire with its chill.
Myla opened her eyes to find Sawyer standing above her, surveying the land as if nothing had happened. Maybe, for him, nothing had. She was sure the tremors running through her were vibrating all the way through to China or Australia or whatever was through there but there was no visible effect on him. None.
She’d all but attacked him with that kiss. He’d returned it. She hadn’t imagined that. But he obviously regretted it.
Probably just as well. She’d never met anyone as completely whole as Sawyer Banks. Way, way, way out of her league. She wasn’t sure she had a league but, if she did, it wasn’t anywhere in the same galaxy as his.
No more throwing herself at him. No more embarrassing herself. Forget her plan to get him to help her with her next step. Enough.
Now to get upright and act like an adult.
Shoving herself to a sitting position, she twisted to her side to use her hands as leverage. Sawyer appeared in her view and offered her his hands. She accepted without a word.
When she stood, he released her immediately and turned to check out the woods around them again. In a flash, she remembered the noise that had sent them to the ground in the first place. “What was that?”
Sawyer whirled to face her, eyebrows pulled down to frown at her. His eyes drifted to her lips and she realized he thought she meant the kiss. The kiss that she had initiated. Nope. Not talking about that. “The noise we heard. What do you think it was?”
He blinked and the surprise in his eyes melted away. “Someone blew up the sleds.”
Myla staggered back as if he’d struck her. “Our snowmachines? How can you possibly know that? We’re miles away.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “My sleds. And I know it because there’s nothing else out here to blow up.” He turned his back to her and started walking. “Plus, with the way my luck is going, there’s no way it could be anything else.”
Myla wondered if the last sentence was about her but decided she didn’t want to ask.
If he was right that meant the crazy guy knew they were out in the bush and knew they had no transportation.
He also knew where they were because the tracks were easy to follow. With almost no experience, she’d done it.
If he was crazy enough to kill a wolf and then do, well, that, to it and crazy enough to blow up two snowmachines, he might be crazy enough to kill people.
If he’d followed her, it was her fault he’d found Sawyer’s machines. She had no idea how much they were worth but it had to be thousands of dollars.
Her fault.
At worst, it would have been one machine and Sawyer would be able to escape. She had no doubt that in a battle between Sawyer’s experience and a crazy guy, the former SEAL would win each and every time.
Now she’d cost him a second machine and possibly his own safety. He’d protect her first. She’d slow him down but he wouldn’t leave her.
She was becoming exactly what he’d accused her of being. A liability.
From beyond the trees, Sawyer’s voice called out. “If he’s working alone, we’re safe for a bit and I don’t see any evidence that there’s more than one sadistic bastard on the loose but sticking around here isn’t a good idea. Come on.”
Yep. Definitely a liability.
Staying on the ground for so long had let the cold seep way down into her bones and her leg was stiff but Myla forced it to move. It would loosen as they walked. She doubted the chill from the fear would do the same.
“Where are we going?”
“Need to check out the sleds.”
“That has to be a trap. He’ll be there waiting for you.”
Sawyer shrugged and kept walking.
He took a different path through the forest and she followed directly in his footsteps. Paranoia crept in and settled in her mind. She saw villains behind every tree, heard stealthy footsteps with every rustle of a branch, felt a killer’s breath with every bite of wind.
Soon, one tree looked like the next. North, south, east, and west blurred into a mass of lightly falling snow. Still, their trail was big, bright, and easy to follow. No way could anyone miss it. Or them. Easy targets.
“You keep looking over your shoulder like that, you’re going to sprain your neck or fall flat on your face.”
The man hadn’t turned around. Not even once. How did he know she’d been checking behind them? And, if he knew that, he should know she wouldn’t be able to stop.
A thousand trees later, Sawyer paused behind a cluster of pines. “I’m going to head over to check out the sleds.”
“He’ll find you. We’ve left a ginormous trail. I’m wearing a red coat. We couldn’t possibly be easier to spot.” More proof she didn’t belong here, that she was endangering him just because she was there.
Sawyer waved away her worry. “It’ll be fine. The snow will obscure things soon enough.”
“A two-year-old could track us with both eyes closed.”
His grunt might have been a laugh. “Trust me. Squeeze into this group of trees and wait for me. You’ll be safe.”
On her own? Terror ripped through her but she shoved it down. Staying with him would put him in more jeopardy.
“I’d rather keep moving.”
Sawyer’s eyes tracked to her leg. “I don’t want you far away from me.”
If only that were true. Rolling her eyes, Myla gathered her snark. “I think you’ll manage just fine for a few minutes. I’ll keep walking. As we’ve already discussed, I’ll be easy to track.”
His eyes narrowed at that comment. “No. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
“I don’t follow orders well. I’m going to keep moving.” Her brave words had her spine straightening until she almost believed them herself.
“Do you argue about everything?” His frustration made his voice harsh and he leaned toward her. Probably thought he was intimidating. Only made her want to snuggle in.
No. No, it didn’t. Made her want to be independent and helpful.
Right.
Hoping to make a quick exit, Myla snapped off a salute and turned to continue in their original direction.
She’d only taken a half-dozen steps when Sawyer snagged her arm, pulled her to a halt. “Not that way. If you’re determined to be a pain in the ass, let’s do it the right way and get you to hide while you walk.”
Myla let him direct her even as she wondered if he’d been swigging some whiskey. “Hide while I walk?”
At the bottom of a small slope, he pointed to a small stream that had been frozen over. “Here’s how you hide.”
Myla shook her head sharply. “No way. I’m not hiding in a stream. Even I know about hypothermia.”
Another grunt-laugh burst out of him. He shook his head and squatted down, rapped his mitt on the ice. “Not in. On. See how the snow’s been blown off the stream? No footprints. No trail. Come on. Try it.”
He had to be as crazy as the guy he wanted to track. On snowshoes with a wonky leg. On ice.
Sawyer took several steps on the stream, spun around, and walked back. Easy peasy. Mountain Man had probably been walking on ice his whole life.
Back at her side, Sawyer held her elbow while she gathered the courage to lift her foot and stand on the slippery surface. Once there, she shuffled a few steps to see how the snowshoes would react.
Not as well as Sawyer’s. Although the blame for that might not lie with the snowshoes.
With her arms out to the side like a tight-rope walker, she managed to stay upright. The leather bits wrapped around the metal helped, as did the little picky things on the bottom.
Without lifting her eyes, Myla put one foot in front of the other, each time lifting a little more and shuffling a little less. Not bad. As long as the sneaky bastard wasn’t behind her.
The quick peek sent her arms whirling and she’d have fallen if Sawyer hadn’t steadied her.
“You’re good.” Not hardly. “Follow the stream. Keep your pace steady. No need to rush.”
She’d be alone. In her bright red coat. Better than slowing him down even more.
“No need to check behind you either. I won’t be long. Ten minutes. Fifteen at most. I’ll make sure there’s no one behind you. You’re safe. Trust me.”
She nodded because she did trust him. Not to keep her safe necessarily but to do his best to do so. It wouldn’t be his fault if she ended up in trouble. That lay on her shoulders.
As if he’d read her mind, Sawyer rolled his eyes and released her. “Your choice, Myla. I’d prefer you to stay right here and wait for me. But if you’re determined, you can keep walking. I’ll see you soon.”
And he was gone. Jogging up the slope. Jogging. Myla turned her attention back to her wobbling.
The stream twisted and turned, sneaking up beside a group of trees then avoiding the next ones. No destination in mind.
While she couldn’t do anything about her bright jacket, Sawyer had been right about the path. The ice hid her steps.
Still, she stopped often to make sure.
As she walked, she gained confidence and her pace increased from snail to sloth. She even managed to check out the nearby bushes and peek over her shoulder without coming to a complete halt first.
The minutes ticked by and Myla checked more frequently behind her. Surely it had been ten minutes already. Maybe fifteen.
Gritting her teeth, she kept walking, hoping her trust wasn’t misplaced and that Sawyer was on his way.
She didn’t want to waste her progress by turning back but if he didn’t appear soon, she would. He might have been hurt.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of what the knife that had been used on the wolf could do to Sawyer.
No. He was a trained military specialist. He could handle himself.
She’d trust him. Keep walking.
The stream rounded another clump of pine trees and the wind slapped at her. The temperatures were dropping. She refused to think about the upcoming night. Sawyer had to know where they could get cell phone coverage. If they climbed a hill, they had to be able to access some tower. This was Vermont, not Antarctica.
Myla reached up to tug her hat more firmly over her ears when something flew out of the tree on her left. The bird screeched, its wings almost smacking her face and she stumbled backward and slipped on the ice.
She fought to regain her balance but the snowshoes wouldn’t grab the ice and she thumped down.
The ice cracked beneath her and her left arm smashed through it.
Frigid water soaked her in the instant it took to yank her arm free.
Her sleeve was wet to the elbow and her mitt was already stuck to her hand.
Unable to do anything other than stare at her hand, Myla tried to suck air into her lungs. Even a Florida girl knew the dangers of what she’d done.
Hypothermia: 1, Clumsy Girl: 0.
***
SAWYER didn’t bother entering the clearing where he’d left his sled. Fifty yards was close enough to see the destruction and he preferred to stay under cover.
His charred machines sat in the middle of a smoking circle. Still hot. The snow had melted all around them and the bottoms of the pines were scorched. The recent snowfall had them too wet to burn but they were singed. His extra gas and the tanks themselves had been the fuel. The guy had probably covered the sleds with the extra gas then tossed a couple of matches.
Messy, smelly, and petty.
If the bastard could find the sleds, he could follow the trail. Easily. But he hadn’t. Which meant he likely didn’t want to kill them. Or he was too afraid to follow through. Slaughtering an animal was one thing, escalating to human kills was a whole other level.
Images of his friends’ bodies or what was left of them, flashed through his head and Sawyer clamped down on his willpower to force them away. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by a damn flashback out here. Not when he was responsible for Myla’s safety.
He itched to get moving to catch up with her but he needed to find out if the guy was hanging around here first. From what he knew, arsonists often liked to watch their burns and watch the reactions of the people affected. This jackass wasn’t going to get his rocks off by getting a reaction out of Sawyer.
Wishing he’d packed his binoculars, Sawyer studied every tree surrounding the sleds. Nothing out of place. It had been long enough since the blast for the wildlife to reacclimatize and the noises sounded natural. No worries in bird-land at least.
As his gaze swept past the charred mess, he frowned again over the waste. Every blasted thing was gone. Water. Food. Tent and cooking tools. Everything needed to pass a night comfortably in the bush.
Nothing he hadn’t done before but sure as hell nothing City Girl had ever faced.
Her weak leg had to be bugging her but she didn’t complain. Not willingly, anyway. Her mutters didn’t count because he doubted she was aware of them. Even then, she was more likely to tell her leg to suck it up than whine about it.
Almost made him smile.
Movement across the clearing had Sawyer freezing in place. He knew he wasn’t visible, he’d crawled into the area to ensure that but he slowed his breathing and focused every part of him on that area.
Might not be the jackass. Could be anything from a bird to a fox to a moose. Having a wolf scare the shit out of the bastard would be perfect. As long as the guy didn’t have a gun and good reactions.
The trees continued to rustle softly in a small area. The movement stopped six or seven feet off the ground. Very possibly human, although that was not even close to the only possibility.
Sawyer settled in to wait. If this was the jackass, he’d show himself sooner or later. Sawyer hadn’t met the person he couldn’t outwait.
Without moving, he tensed and relaxed his muscles so he’d be able to jump up and run at a moment’s notice. His eyes tracked the area constantly. No other suspicious areas.
When the antlers poked through the pine tree, Sawyer didn’t know whether to swear in annoyance or relief. He’d spent far more than his promised ten minutes away from Myla only to find out that deer weren’t scared off by the smelly smoke.
Regardless, Sawyer inched his way back from the scene, keeping his senses wide open. With the way things were going, he’d spin around and find the jerk making a snowman.
Once he was away from the sleds, Sawyer picked up the pace. Finding the stream was easy, he hoped Myla agreed.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. No sign of a red jacket. No footprints off to the side of the stream either, although both the snow and wind had picked up. It was possible she’d left the stream to rest and he’d missed the signs.
Worry gnawed at his gut and he considered turning around. Five more minutes. Ten.
The splash of red through the trees nearly had his knees buckling in relief. No one else had died on his watch.
She was a few hundred yards ahead and moving, so Sawyer slowed his pace and worked to get his breathing level. He wasn’t going to give her any reason to think he didn’t have things under control.
The thought nearly had him laughing. Under control was the exact opposite of how things were. He needed a plan.
The best he could do would be to get Myla to the edge of the lake and keep an eye out for Dave or whoever headed over in the morning. The rocky shore and caves would provide lots of opportunities for cover.
He wasn’t sure at this point how many hours of walking they had ahead of them. They’d routed around to avoid the same path and now she was following a stream that was a good way to hide their tracks but it wasn’t heading in a straight line anywhere and wasn’t even heading in the right general direction.
But the stream gave Myla confidence that she was hidden and made it easier for him to follow her. If he’d let her go on her own, she’d have walked around in circles and been lost in no time.
They’d need to rest soon. Her leg had to nearly be done in. But she was still upright. Still going forward.
Pride surged through him. She’d have been damn good for morale over in Afghanistan. The kids would have loved her and she’d have fit right in with their enthusiasm and never-say-quit attitudes.
When he was close enough to speak in a low tone, he called her name. She whirled around, eyes wide and wild. As soon as she realized who he was, her face crumpled. Tears filled her eyes and her lips trembled. She whipped back around, hiding her face.
He closed the distance and pulled her to a stop. “Hey. It’s okay, Myla. We’re going to be fine. You covered a ton of distance. You’re doing great.”
But, when she turned to him, she hadn’t blinked her eyes clear. Vulnerability shone out and ripped at his heart. “I’m not doing great. I didn’t do great. I screwed up, Sawyer. Big time.”
He tugged her into his chest and gave her a quick squeeze, then leaned back and tilted up her chin. “What are you talking about? You walked twice the distance I expected you to. You followed the stream, made it easy for me to find you, yet made it impossible for anyone to follow.”
The whole time he spoke, she shook her head and as soon as he stopped, she held up her hand.
No mitt.
Jacket sleeve soaking wet up to her elbow.
Shit.
Double shit.
With an effort, he kept the panic out of his voice. “It’ll be fine. Trust me. We’ll fix this.”
“Fix this?” Her voice rose to a shrill squeak. “How can we fix this? I fell in the stream, I’m soaked. I’ve researched hypothermia. I’ve interviewed people who’ve suffered from it. I’ve seen the skin damage, the missing limbs.” Her voice broke but she swallowed and kept ranting. “In one article, I wrote this sailor’s story of surviving for four days in the water. I wrote it. Not him. You know why? Because he’d lost his hands.”
Her words struck him like blows. Writer. Articles. Sailor.
Oblivious to his reaction, she barrelled on. “And that wasn’t in the winter. In the middle of nowhere with no tools.” She stopped, swallowed again, took in deep breaths to control herself.
It barely registered. His mind reeled. She was a writer. She’d written about at least one other sailor. She was here in Bloo Moose writing about him.
Talk about flashbacks.
This was another Jen. Another writer out to make a name for herself on the backs of SEALs. Out to write about him and his past without his permission.
Christ, he’d been screwed over in the past and he’d learned nothing.
Here he was with another woman whose pretty face had turned his brain to mush. He couldn’t be more of an idiot if he tried.
Myla shook herself and backed away. “Sorry. I’m freaking out and I shouldn’t be shouting at you. It’s obviously not your fault. Let’s go.”
She turned her back and walked on down the stream.
He watched her go and fought his inner demons.
Maybe she was working with the jackass who’d cut up the wolf. It might have all been an elaborate setup to get some kind of reaction out of him.
To have him flashing back to the slaughter in Afghanistan.
Or it was an unhappy coincidence that she’d shown up in Bloo Moose at the same time as the person who’d blown up his sleds.
Maybe it was all her. Maybe she’d set up some kind of timer on the detonator so she’d be with him during the explosion.
She’d offered to come with him back at the shed. Pushed him. Then, when he’d refused, she’d followed anyway.
For someone who’d never seen winter before, she’d managed to drive his sled across the lake and trail him.
Damn it.
His gut screamed at him that there was no way she could have faked her reaction to the wolf or to the explosion but he’d been fooled before.
By Jen.
By the situation in Afghanistan.
The first had only cost him his pride but the other had cost him his team.
The red coat had disappeared out of sight as Myla continued to walk through the snow and he continued to debate with himself.
Slowly, he started to follow. Even if she turned out to be a lying bitch, he couldn’t let her lose her hand.
When he reached her, he called at her to stop but she kept walking. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
He sighed and tugged her to a halt. “We need to get this fixed up first. Slide your arm into your jacket and tuck your hand under your clothes and onto your skin. It’s going to be cold as hell but keep it there.”
He helped her follow his instructions as she was shaking too much to do it independently. A quick peek showed the skin was red and shriveling but didn’t look past hope. He had to get the jacket off her and get her dried out. Quickly.
Of course, all of the proper equipment he had for keeping them warm had blown up with the shed. He had the basics in his backpack, he never went anywhere without it but he could have used more.
A thick stand of spruce and fir trees stood not too far off the stream, so he took Myla’s free hand and pulled her along toward it. As he’d hoped, a small clearing sat int he middle of the stand. Perfect.
He pulled off his backpack and yanked out his solar blanket, spread it on the ground. “Sit.”
When she didn’t move quickly enough, he wondered if she was capable of getting down easily with the one arm trapped in her jacket.
Reality or another stunt to get a reaction out of him?
Knowing he couldn’t do anything else, Sawyer helped her down onto the blanket, then undid the snowshoes so she could sit more comfortably.
“It’s cold.” Her voice shook and her teeth chattered.
“No shit. Your body heat is the fastest way to heat up the arm. Keep it there. The shivering is actually good news.”
Which she probably knew from her research on the damn subject.
Sawyer squatted down in front of her and checked out the sleeve. Not just wet. Soaked to the elbow. Which meant her sweater was wet as well. Keeping the curses inside, he unzipped her jacket but kept it resting on her shoulders, keeping in as much of her warmth as possible.
She wore a thick sweater, wet at the cuff, damp up at the biceps. Beneath, her arm was cold all the way up.
A quick rummage of his pack turned up a pair of socks, gloves, a sling and tape from the first aid kit, and a plastic bag full of snacks. Not perfect but not bad.
Working quickly, he shoved her sleeve up as high as it would go. He’d cut it if he had to but if they could dry it out, she’d stay warmer in the long run.
Sawyer wrapped his socks around her arm, then taped them in place. After dumping the snacks onto the blanket, he slit the plastic bag, then wrapped it around the socks and taped it in place as well.
Using the sling, he wrapped her arm closely to her body, then slipped off her jacket and replaced it with his own.
She tried to shrug it off. “I can’t take your jacket, Sawyer. I can’t. I’ve caused enough trouble, already. You’ll never survive without it.” Tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled.
Before he could think it through, he brushed her lip with his thumb, silencing her immediately. “I’m more than warm enough. I’m going to be moving for a bit. We’ll figure it out later. For now, we need you to get warm and that’s the quickest way. Nothing’s going to happen to either of us.”
He needed to keep her safe. Writer or not. User or not.
His mind flashed to the words sprayed on her car. Liar. Bitch.
Someone else knew she was a writer. Someone else knew she was lying.
He only had her word for it that she’d spoken to only a handful of people in town. She might even have someone working with her.
Damn. She had him weaving conspiracy theories.
He turned his focus back to the situation at hand. Lots of time to find the answers after he made sure she wouldn’t lose her hand.
As soon as he was sure her skin would stay dry, he shoved to his feet and pushed through the trees. He needed wood. Dry wood that wouldn’t smoke.
Back in the trees, he set a small fire, close to the solar blanket Myla slumped on. She watched him silently, eyes large and a little vacant. He’d never seen her anything but full of life.
He needed to get that spark back.
After several trips to get more and more wood, Sawyer used a spruce bough to erase their tracks. No one but an expert would be able to find them. The fire smell was unavoidable but it wouldn’t be easy to locate with the flames or the smoke.
Back in the clearing, he found Myla sitting cross-legged on the blanket, head bowed, and her free hand lax.
Sawyer hardened his heart. She didn’t deserve his sympathy. She was using him.
He’d give her hell later.
He picked up the backpack that now lay beside her and unzipped it. The sound had her jerking and trying to scramble backward. Having her hand trapped inside the jacket threw her off balance and she would have toppled over if he hadn’t steadied her.
“Sorry. I must have zoned out.”
Her voice trembled right along with her body and Sawyer squelched the urge to haul her up onto his lap and tuck her in.
He didn’t want that. He didn’t want her if she was using him for a story.
Sawyer snagged the solar blanket from her pack, glad his training had paid off yet again. This time in fully prepared packs. He wrapped it around her shoulders and tucked it in.
She tried to push it off. “No. You need that. Not me. Tell me how I can help.”
Sawyer held the blanket down over her shoulders. “You can help by getting warm. Relax.”
“But, I can—“
“Yes, you can but you don’t have to. I’ve got it.”
Myla grimaced but stayed where she was. Sawyer did a quick survey of the packs and pulled out protein bars, granola, and dried fruit. “Eat.”
“When you do.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn?”
A flicker of humor lit her eyes. “Only most of the people I meet.”
Sawyer handed her an unwrapped bar before sitting beside her and opening one for himself. “Eat.”
She did.
Sawyer filled the tin cups from the packs with snow and set them by the fire. As the snow melted, he added more, keeping them full. Then he added some of the dehydrated soup and passed a cup to Myla.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a regular Davey Boone?”
He hadn’t thought anything about the situation could make him laugh. “Daniel Boone. Or Davey Crockett. Pick one.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes before she drew in one of those big breaths that meant she was about to ask a question or make a suggestion he was sure to hate.
“What’s next? How do we get back home?”
She didn’t stumble over the word home and he wondered if she’d realized she’d used it. She’d only been in town for a few days. She was temporary. Very temporary.
“Two choices. Walk out tonight or walk out in the morning.” A shudder ripped through her and he continued. “Traveling the bush at night is nothing more than crazy when you don’t know the terrain.”
Another deep breath. “You know the terrain. What option would be better?”
And that was the Final Jeopardy question of the day. “Depends. Walking out now means there’s a slim chance Dave or someone else will cross the lake looking for us.”
“How will they find us? We’re nowhere near where we started.”
He’d hoped she’d be too tired to realize that. Should have known better. Reporter’s eyes had been tracking their moves all day. “They’ll figure it out.”
“What would be better about waiting until morning?”
He studied her pale face with the deep shadows under her eyes. “Rest. It’s been a hell of a long day. We’ll have a lot more energy in the morning.”
She nodded and looked around. “Maybe we should move and rest.”
Did she want to be left alone so she could meet up with her partner in crime? Or was she doing another version of sacrificing herself to save him, like she had when he’d tracked the wolves? “I’m not leaving you alone if that’s what you mean.”
She reached out to pat his arm. “Relax. I get it. I’ve figured out you’re not going to abandon me if you think it’s dangerous. I didn’t mean that. I meant that we should keep going while it’s still light enough to see.”
Of course, she’d figured out the best option. Except for the fact that she needed to rest. “Your body’s been through enough today. We’ll wait until morning.”
Her eyes narrowed and her whole body stiffened, indicating he’d said the wrong thing. “Well, that’s too bad. My vote is to start walking.”
One-handed, she rinsed her cup with some snow, then shoved it back into her pack along with everything she could reach. When she tried to shove to her feet, he gave up and helped her.
She struggled to stand on her own but determination shone in her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
Her glare nearly sizzled off his eyelashes.
“Okay. You’re sure. Come on.”