Warren took a deep inhale of the fresh air. Overhead, the sun did its best to squint through the foliage, but the smell of rain was still everywhere. The occasional bit of water dripped down from the trees and sploshed onto his nose or cheek or head. It wasn’t bothersome. In fact, as he checked the map again, then eyed the compass that they’d discovered inside a drawer on the boat and confirmed that they were still on the right track, Warren found that much of the pressure in his chest had eased. Not fully. He wasn’t an idiot. There was still a lot of risk involved in what they were doing, and their safety was nowhere near guaranteed. But until his fingers had closed on the matte paper and pulled it from the cubby, Warren hadn’t realized just how worried he’d been about safely finding their way out of the forest and back to civilization.
You knew perfectly well that your Boy Scout days were well past you, said a voice in his head.
He sidestepped a large rock that appeared out of nowhere and acknowledged the truth of the thought with an internal nod. Yes, he did know that. In all honesty, even when he was twelve and decked out in full Boy Scout fashion, he’d still been better at building and designing than he had at orienteering. Give him a hammer, some wood and a set of nails, and he’d make something amazing. Drop him on the side of the mountain, and he’d wait for the rescue helicopter, thank you very much. He hadn’t exactly been looking forward to the prospect of trekking through unknown terrain and possibly fending off angry bears or furious elk—or worse, encountering Harper and his buddies—either. But the relief at a solution was more forceful than he would’ve anticipated. Apparently, Warren had needed the assurance a hell of a lot more than he’d thought.
He paused in both his thoughts and his trek as Jeannie touched his arm, then pointed up to a tree, where a nest hung low with three chirping heads peeking out. He smiled at the visible delight on her face as the mother bird swooped in and began feeding her babies. When she saw his grin, she gave him a teasing push, and he pretended to fall. Then they resumed their hike. For a few seconds, it truly was almost as though everything that had led them to this point didn’t exist. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they hadn’t discussed anything about Harper or the dangers that hovered around them. They’d focused on their surroundings. On moving forward. He wasn’t sure how much longer they could avoid the inevitable. Or even if they should keep trying.
Like she sensed his need for it, Jeannie’s hand found his, and he gave her palm a squeeze. The contact made the voice in his head pipe up again.
Riiiiiiiight, it said. Your good mood is all about the map, huh, Wright?
Warren wasn’t going to deny it. Spending a couple of hours in bed with her pretty much topped the day. Or maybe the year. Or even the decade, if he was going to go full throttle on the truth.
For two years, he’d been admiring Jeannie from afar. His own hang-ups were the thing that had held him back from ever seriously considering pursuing her. So, yeah, the fact that they’d skipped all the awkward asking and the weird, first dates niceties—albeit with some pretty intense moments in their stead—was more than a gift. It definitely contributed to the lightened mood. Except it also reined it in. The increased intimacy between them added some pressure, too, because there was more riding on it. More to lose. He had to get them out.
Trying to distract himself, Warren dropped another look at the map. By his estimate, they were already more than halfway to Joss Lake. The terrain wasn’t clear, but it wasn’t horribly rough, either. Their progress was steady. Even Jeannie’s distinctly out-of-place shoes didn’t hold them back. Warren was glad that their destination was closer to becoming a reality, but the nearer they got, the more his mood darkened.
What if they weren’t successful? What if, after all this, he never got another chance to kiss her? To touch her? To show her—and himself—that he was capable of so much more? He’d spied the doubt in Jeannie’s eyes just before he’d found the map. The hesitation. The slight bite of her lip had given her away. She could deny that it was about him all she wanted, but he suspected that she was questioning whether or not they’d made a mistake.
Did we?
The two-word thought hit him harder than a punch. Harder than a damn truck. Of course they hadn’t made a mistake. He hated the fact that he was even letting it cross his mind. He needed to stop his brain from thinking things it had no business thinking. Of course, now that the idea was there, it was impossible to fully ignore it. Warren didn’t regret it. He wanted more. Not just in the physical sense, either, though he’d gladly have spent the rest of the day in bed with her.
But weren’t you the one questioning the choice even before it happened?
It was true, even the memory seemed vague and misplaced now.
“Warren?” said Jeannie.
He jerked his head up and saw that she’d managed to get more than a few steps ahead. He’d unconsciously stopped walking. He studied her puzzled expression. Her beautiful eyes. Her sweet nose. Her perfect mouth. Warren’s heart expanded to a near painful size, and he put his hand on his own chest, surprised by the ferocity of feeling. How the hell could getting closer to her be anything that resembled a mistake? It couldn’t. Impulsively, he surged forward to close the gap between them. Jeannie’s gaze went from mildly confused to downright startled, and then her eyes darted around in search of trouble.
“What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”
In reply, he backed her into a nearby tree. “Nothing.”
“Then why are you—”
He slammed his lips to hers. Hard. But tender. Full of a promise that he hoped she’d feel. When he pulled back—slowly, and peppering her mouth with several more kisses before complete withdrawal—a crazy urge filled his mind. Three words. Three badly timed words. Three words that took more than an adrenaline-fueled night and a morning in bed to become a reality.
Then again...
This woman knew him better than anyone had known him since his teenage years. He’d told her his biggest secret. Revealed his biggest insecurity. For two years, he’d been pretending that she wasn’t the best part of each day. He’d been denying that he didn’t wake up with her smile on his mind. So if there was any chance that they weren’t going to come out of this unscathed, then he didn’t want to leave things up in the air. He knew it was insane, but his mouth started to open anyway. And then someone cleared their throat from behind him.
With a mental curse, Warren spun. His body automatically dropping to a defensive position, and his fists lifted. Except before he even finished rounding on the intruder, he realized the stance was unnecessary. The person—two people, actually—who stood in front of him were hikers. The first one was a man dressed in full rain gear, heavy boots, and laden down with a backpack. The second one was a woman, outfitted in khaki shorts, a fleece jacket and a fishing vest. They were both sixtyish, and also both shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, and the man’s face was ruddy with embarrassment.
“Didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt...” said the male hiker. “Just, uh, passing by. Didn’t want to startle you.”
Warren slid his hand casually into Jeannie’s and answered with a cheerful smile. “No worries. You two heading for the river to get some fishing in?”
The man nodded and rattled his backpack. “Usually try to get out earlier, but the rain this morning...”
“Not pleasant,” Warren agreed. “Nice day for a walk now, though, right? Thought we’d take advantage while we could.”
The woman’s eyes strayed to Jeannie’s bare legs. They hung on her muddy sneakers, then slid back to Warren, skepticism etched into her frown.
“It was a spontaneous decision,” Jeannie stated, clearly reading the woman’s expression, as well. “And I guess we came a little farther than we thought we would.”
The doubt didn’t quite leave the female hiker’s face, but she didn’t argue. “In that case, if you want to save some time getting back into town...” she said, lifting her hand to point over Jeannie’s shoulder. “Then there’s a shortcut in that direction. Walk straight for about three minutes, and you’ll see a weirdly out-of-place oak tree. Hang a sharp right, keep going to a point where you think you shouldn’t—there’ll be a pink marker on a boulder—and it’ll take you straight out to the path that leads to the big, public parking lot off Main Street.”
“Thanks. I take it you’re local?” Warren replied.
The couple nodded simultaneously, and the man answered, “Retired to Joss Lake about five years back. Best decision we’ve ever made for ourselves. You’re here on vacation?”
Warren casually slung an arm over Jeannie’s shoulder, then kissed her head. “First time as a couple.”
The woman’s face finally relaxed. “Bob and I came here for our first romantic getaway, too. I think we may even have gotten a little lost in the woods ourselves. Do you remember?”
The man—Bob—gave a shrug. “You know my memory, love. I can’t recall what we had for breakfast this morning, let alone what happened four decades ago. But if you say it happened, then I’m sure it did.”
They smiled at each other.
“It was an omelet,” said the woman.
“Right you are,” replied her husband. “With feta. My favorite.”
The woman’s eyes grew soft. “That’s the secret to a long and happy marriage. Lots of feta cheese and lots of fishing.”
“Mark her words, kids,” said Bob, chuckling. “She’s never wrong.”
He leaned in for a kiss, and his wife tipped up her face to receive it. Then the retired couple wished Jeannie and Warren a nice day, and they disappeared into the foliage. As he watched them go, Warren slid his hand from Jeannie’s shoulder to her hand, and a forceful thought hit him.
I want that.
He stared at the spot where Bob and his wife had disappeared. Warren liked that four decades in, they were still looking at each other with love. He liked their shared smile, and their ease with each other. He had an appreciation of the longevity of their relationship. None of that was something he’d ever considered for himself. Not in any concrete way. Yet right now, he had a weird urge to run after the couple so he could ask how they did it. Aside from the feta, that is. Annual trips? Couples’ retreats? A lot of forgiveness and patience and passion? Irrationally, he wanted to know if they had kids. Maybe grandkids. He even went so far as to lift a foot in their direction, but he was stopped from getting swept away and embarrassing himself by the fact that Jeannie spoke up then.
“So...” she said. “Are we taking their tip or...?”
Her words caught Warren off guard, because for a second, he thought they were in sync with what had been going on in his mind, and that she was referring to their marriage advice. Then he clued in. She didn’t mean the feta and fishing. She meant the shortcut.
“Right,” he said with a little throat clear. “Can’t see a reason not to.”
She shot her muddy feet a wrinkled-nose look, then heaved a relieved sigh. “Good. Because I’ve been pretending that I don’t have a blister the size of an egg forming on the side of my little toe. I wasn’t looking forward to asking you to carry me the rest of the way.”
“I would’ve, though,” he told her, holding out his hand.
She slid her fingers between his and smiled in a way that made his heart warm. “I know.”
The directions given by the female half of the duo were easy to follow, and in just minutes, they were clear of the forest. It was almost too fast. They had little time to discuss what next step to take. So when they hit the Main Street parking lot—as promised—they stopped in the middle of the paved surface and stared at the almost billboard-sized map of Joss Lake, advertising everything the area had to offer.
“This place really has grown,” Warren said, his attention flicking from the ultratouristy map to the street.
From where they stood, he could see three stoplights, as well as a bright yellow, flashing light that warned of an upcoming school zone, despite the fact that it was the weekend. To their left was a strip of commercial properties that boasted an eclectic collection of shops. To their right was a large, wooden sign decorated with an arrow and embossed with the word MOTEL in bold letters across it. The last bit held his attention, and he inclined his head toward it.
“What do you think?” he said. “Should we head there and see if we can get a room? Grab a shower and see about some clean clothes? We could use the hotel as a home base while we figure out what we’re going to do.”
Surprisingly, Jeannie shook her head. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“What could be better than a shower and some fresh clothes?”
“Food.”
On cue, his stomach rumbled. With a responding laugh, Jeannie poked her finger onto the big map.
“Joe’s Like Home,” she said. “Look. It promises the best food in the whole town.”
Warren lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, and they probably paid for the map, too.”
“Who cares? I’m imagining apple pie and really greasy fries, and the vision is so real that I can almost taste it. And it’s only a block up the road.”
His eyes slid to the street once more, skirting along the row of buildings. Unease made him shift on the spot.
“Hanging out in public probably isn’t the safest bet,” he said.
“You’re the one who said that Harper and his guys would be looking south,” she reminded him.
“True. I’m just not convinced it’s worth the risk.”
“We can compromise and get the food to go.”
Warren’s stomach growled again. “Okay, fine. I’m sold. But in and out quick, all right?”
“Whatever it takes to get me my pie,” Jeannie said.
They made their way up the street, passing several shops and a number of people who could’ve been either locals or visitors, and then stepped into Joe’s Like Home. Warren couldn’t deny that the place smelled good. Like fresh, hot food. And coffee—the kind that didn’t get mixed with lukewarm water. He took a deep breath, then jumped back as a server—who was laden down with a dish-covered tray—squeezed in behind them and waved with her free hand.
“Be right with you!” she called. “Hang on!”
“Take your time,” Warren replied as she scurried through to a set of swinging doors on the other side of the lobby.
Feeling more relaxed, he slipped a hand to Jeannie’s waist and eyed the interior of the diner. He liked the fact that the current moment felt so close to normal. Though business was bustling, no one looked at them twice, despite their slightly bedraggled appearance. As far as anyone knew, they were just a couple who’d been caught in the rain, now trying to warm up. He could almost believe it himself. It actually made him a little disappointed when the now empty-handed server came hurrying back and flashed them a smile, then greeted them in a quick-paced babble.
“Okay!” she said breathlessly. “Sorry about that. One of our girls had a family emergency so I’m holding down the fort myself. But I promise the food will still be good, and the coffee will still be fresh! Table for two?”
Rethinking the idea of taking their food to go as paranoid, Warren nodded. “Please. A quieter corner if you’ve got one, and if that’s all right with my...”
He trailed off, unsure exactly how to refer to Jeannie. Friend didn’t sound strong enough. Girlfriend seemed too presumptuous. Luckily, though, the server saved him from needing to figure it out right then anyway.
“I’ve got the perfect spot!” she said, sounding pleased as punch. “Follow me.”
She led them through the dining area, reeling off the specials. When they reached a secluded table in the room, she groaned at her own forgetfulness, then promised she’d be right back with their menus and some free coffee before slipping away once more. Warren grinned at Jeannie, pulled out one of the chairs and winked as he gestured for her to sit.
“Here’s a bit more chivalry for you,” he said.
Jeannie smiled back, but as she started to let him seat her, her body suddenly stiffened, breaking the momentary ease.
“Warren...” she said, and his name was a choked whisper.
A need to protect her from the unknown source of her sudden fear filled him. Automatically, he shifted, trying—impossibly—to make himself a shield between her and the entire restaurant.
“What is it?” he asked in a hiss.
“Don’t look,” she said. “But the TV up there by those high stools in the corner... We’re on it.”
He thought he’d misheard, and it took a serious amount of effort to keep from jerking his gaze to the spot she’d just told him not to look at. “What do you mean?”
“Literally on it. A bulletin just cut through the programming. Both of our pictures. And the caption said that you’re wanted for murder.”
The words cut his breath away. “What the actual hell.”
“I think we need to leave, Warren.”
There was no “think” about it. They had to get out of the restaurant right then. He grabbed Jeannie’s hand, tucked his head low and spun toward the lobby. They wound through the tables and chairs at a quick pace. It wasn’t until they nearly crashed into the server on her return trip that he realized their abrupt exit was probably even more attention-attracting than a quiet one would’ve been. He slowed their pace and muttered what he hoped came across as a cheerful excuse for their hasty departure. Jeannie followed him closely. Even her touch on his back didn’t provide comfort. It was almost agonizing to move in such an unhurried way. The steps felt plodding. He swore every eye in the place was on them now. Even once they’d stepped back outside, it still seemed likely that someone would spot them and notify the police.
His mind went to the couple in the woods. On the off chance that a random person in town didn’t send an alarm, surely the two hikers would come back and see the news. Casual, friendly interactions like that could bring him and Jeannie down, too. How long did they have to find cover before it all went wrong?
Warren scanned the street. It was wide-open. A grandmotherly woman waved at them from a bench.
He gritted his teeth, waved back. What choice did he have? Then he grabbed Jeannie’s hand and tugged her away, second-guessing their speed with each step. Were they moving too fast? Too slowly? He kept going anyway, silently cursing himself for allowing his stomach to overrule his sense. He didn’t pause or speak until they’d reached the Main Street parking lot once more. At least there, they were able duck into the shelter of the enormous map of Joss Lake.
“Whatever we were thinking about doing before,” he said in a low, even voice, “we’re going to need to scrap it for a new plan. And it’s going to have to be a hell of a good one, and it’s going to have to happen in a hell of a hurry, too.”
“The hotel?” Jeannie suggested, then immediately shook her head and answered herself. “No. What are the chances that no one there has watched the news?”
“Slim to none,” Warren replied.
“I guess we could try to go back to the boat, or—Wait.” Her hand came up to the map. “We could go here.”
He focused on the spot where she was pointing. “To a...dollar store?”
“It’s a five-dollar store,” she corrected.
He reread the map label, then rolled his eyes. “My mistake. But that doesn’t help me understand your plan.”
“It’s simple. We’ll grab some sunglasses and a couple of hats, and at the very least, that will keep people from seeing us directly.”
“Should we check if they have wigs and clown noses, too?”
“Have you got a better idea?”
He started to offer her another facetious reply, then stopped as he realized he’d run out of time. An RCMP officer was pulling into the parking lot, and his eyes were fixed on the two of them.