Marshall concealed his shiver as best he could and scooted closer to the small fire Lena had built. How had his life come to this, cowering in a dank cave, hiding from people he hadn’t even known existed two weeks earlier? How had he missed this level of corruption right under his nose? Some kind of analyst he turned out to be.
He rubbed his hand through his hair as worry about how they’d get out of this mess alive settled with a quiver in his stomach. Escaping by helicopter was no longer an option. Had they caught Bjørn? Lena had insisted Bjørn would be okay, but Marshall wasn’t so sure. Was someone else Lena loved dead because of Marshall? Why hadn’t he given Carter to Lena and gone to help Bjørn?
Marshall was a coward, that was why.
As he’d trembled over his son, hoping the men hadn’t seen them, the fact that he was weak had settled on him like a soaked blanket, freezing him to his core and weighing him down. Otherwise, he would’ve skirted through the woods to help a friend instead of barreling away as fast as possible. He would have joined with the fighting ranks of the Air Force instead of taking the easy route behind a desk, analyzing data.
He wasn’t a hero. No. People had called him that when he’d gotten out of the military and ran for office. Like a fool, he’d let them. Had let the false words bolster him until he imagined himself invincible. Now, the words burned hot in his eyes. He blinked away the tears.
He was far from heroic. Men and women like the Rebels were. Lena, who would leave her brother behind not knowing if he would be caught or not, had more courage and honor than Marshall ever would. She would never want to be with someone as inadequate as him.
He snorted at himself. He didn’t deserve her anyway. She needed someone who could match her strength, someone like her dead fiancé with his special ops training. Too bad Marshall had screwed that up as well.
Rustling at the mouth of the cave tightened his shoulders and made his heart race so fast he was sure it’d explode. Was this how rabbits felt before they were eaten? Come on, Marsh. Stop being a wuss. He gripped the handgun Lena had insisted he keep, careful not to put his finger on the trigger. Could he even be man enough to shoot the gun?
Carter shifted behind Marshall, whimpering in his sleep. Marshall pushed his heavy shoulders back and moved so he blocked his son. Protecting Carter meant everything to Marshall. He’d do everything he could to keep him safe.
Lena stepped through the opening, and all of Marshall’s muscles relaxed in a whoosh. Two birds hung from her belt. How in the world had she gotten them? She’d left the only gun they had with him. She held a handkerchief bulging with something in one hand and a long, thick spear like some mighty Amazon warrior in the other. She amazed him and reinforced every conclusion he’d come to. She’d gone out and somehow provided food for them while he’d shivered by the fire.
“I saw nothing out there.” Lena leaned the spear against the cave wall and scrutinized him over the fire. “You okay?”
No, not really.
He swallowed, nodded curtly, and pointed his chin to the birds. “Dinner?”
“Yeah.” Lena smiled radiantly as she handed the handkerchief to him and unknotted the birds. “God’s looking out for us. These two were easy pickings, and the forest is littered with those right now.”
Marshall unwrapped the cloth to reveal huge mushrooms. Here, he thought they’d starve, but she planned a gourmet meal. Just another way he couldn’t compare.
“How in the world did you hunt without a gun?” Marshall set the mushrooms aside and pulled out his pocketknife, determined to help make dinner however he could.
“The perfect-sized rock and a good aim is all it takes to stun little birds.” She shrugged, while his mouth hung open.
“You killed them with a rock?” Marshall sounded like an idiot, but who could actually do stuff like that?
“Well, no. I knocked them out with the rock.” Lena set them on the ground and dusted her hands together. “Wringing their necks killed them.”
Right, because she was some kind of superwoman.
“Want me to pluck them?” How hard could pulling feathers be?
He wished his upbringing had included more of the outdoors. Maybe if his family had spent more time hunting and camping and stuff, he’d have a better understanding of what to do. Neither of his parents had felt any desire to rough it. A week at the mountain lodge in the Appalachians with guided fly-fishing and trail rides with tame horses was the extent of their experience in the great outdoors. If they made it out of this alive, he’d have Lena put him through a wilderness bootcamp.
“I have an easier way to get them ready.” Lena motioned for him to get up and handed him one bird. “We are going to stand on their wings and pull up with their feet. It’ll leave us with just the breast meat connected to the wings.”
Marshall squished his lips together and puffed out his cheeks. Hunting with nothing but a “perfect-sized rock,” whatever that meant, and ripping birds in two was so far from his comfort-zone he wasn’t sure if he could do it. He swallowed down the nausea and copied Lena as she showed him what to do. The snapping and popping of bones disconnecting preceded a kind of sucking noise as the bottom half of the bird separated from the wings trapped beneath his shoes.
“Perfect.” Lena looked at him like he’d just won first prize in a spelling bee or something. “Hand me that half, and I’ll go toss them in the other cave farther back.”
“You sure that won’t draw some wild animal in?” Marshall picked up the wing and examined the perfectly clean meat nestled between the feathers.
“I promise.” Lena chuckled, like this was just another walk in the park. “Nothing’s coming in or out of the cave unless it comes from that opening.”
Marshall’s gaze darted to the cave entrance. He hated the fear that clawed up his throat, hated the way his overwhelmed brain went numb. He wiped a shaky arm across his forehead. This wasn’t him. He always had a handle on any situation, knew how to look at a problem and find a solution.
He took a deep breath and blew out his frustration. This circumstance was just like any other difficulty he’d encountered before. Yes, the stakes of failure were higher than any other, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t work through it.
Couldn’t push the terror down and help Lena instead of just being deadweight.
She stepped into the light, knelt by Carter, and adjusted the emergency blanket she’d packed in her bag. The tenderness of the moment filled Marshall’s heart and ricocheted the longing for family against the cave walls. He’d do everything he could to work as a team and get them home. He pushed aside the doubt that questioned if it would be enough, if he would be enough.