Chapter 22

Blake stumbled on the uneven river rock. Somehow able to keep upright, he glanced down and noted the unnatural glossy glow of Sam’s white bag. Instantly, he succumbed to a wave of relief and plopped down onto the rocky creek bed. It had taken some time, but deciding to back track and return to the trail head had paid off.

Now, back on his game, he exhaled a deep breath and embraced the slight glimmer of hope. She must be near then. He peered into the forest. The dense woods were thick with pitchy darkness, and he cursed his timing. It would be hard to find her even in the best of circumstances. Add the loss of light in the heavy forest, and it was damn near impossible.

What if she was hurt or unconscious? He stopped that flow of thoughts immediately. No what ifs. His gaze was drawn to a handful of broken branches on a tree about five feet away. Blake grabbed the bag and scrambled to his feet toward the mangled limbs. Studying them closely, he then kneeled on the ground and noticed several frantic prints scattered about. But two distinctly different boot prints.

He quickly rose to full height as a score of trepidation flushed through his veins, stirring his blood. And from the erratic patterns and scattering of rocks, there appeared to have been some kind of struggle.

Up until now, he had feared only the possible threat of animals or a night lost in the woods. Never once had he considered she could fall prey to the most dangerous beast of all…man. He kneeled again, reaching out to touch a darker spot tainting the ground. When he brought his fingers back, they were wet with a red, sticky substance.

Blood.

His heartbeat pounded, thundering like a summer storm in his ears. Standing, he searched his surroundings, and not in the calm, purposely emotionless way he’d embraced up until this point. His composed demeanor was long gone, replaced instead by a flurry of panic.

Other than the spot he had thoroughly foraged, there was nothing. No tracks leading elsewhere. No more broken branches. Hell, there wasn’t even a sound in the woods other than an occasional animal scurrying in the underbrush.

Tormented, despair crept in. He was at a complete loss. The woman had simply disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but a pool of blood behind.

Blake opened her bag as if it might reveal any clues within. He pulled out the small pad of paper she was always jotting things in, flipped through the pages, and scanned her notes. A few, very descriptive words jumped out and demanded his complete attention.

Handsome. Cocky. Egotistical.

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he continued to read a humorous recount of their first encounter, followed by a detailed depiction of the restaurant, Maggie, and Alaska. All of which she portrayed in a more favorable light.

Sam really had a knack for writing. He came across several pages of survival tips and ways to be prepared in the state’s unpredictable nature.

If only she had read her own notes. He should’ve never walked away from her…should’ve woken her up and demanded she join him on the ride this morning. Then, she would be with him now. In his arms.

Alive.

He pulled his gaze away from the pages and focused on the dark, crimson circle again. Refusing to think the worst, he pulled his attention back to her words. Straining in the fading light, he tried to read what else she had written.

There was more about him. About the first time they had made love. The most sexual enthralling moment of her life.

His, too.

Even in the impending darkness, he couldn’t hide his smile, struggling to read more. The next couple of excerpts were explicit memories of their lovemaking, moving into an elaborate discovery of the beauty and mystery of the Northern Lights. And more.

Much more.

He felt his skin flush as he flipped a page, and found himself glued to a thorough passage about the natural hot springs and making love underneath the dancing florescent green lights of the sky.

Blake stopped, unable to read anymore as a flurry of memories rocked his world. A sexy image of her dressed to kill the first day he met her sprung to mind, trumping all the others for a brief moment. Even then, in her disheveled state, she had been a force to be reckoned with.

He loved this woman. Her nonstop questions. Her thirst for knowledge. The way Sam’s curious mind always searched for more. Or that unstoppable determination he found annoying at first. And the stubborn tilt of her chin when she refused to admit she was at fault.

But there were other reasons. Blake was overwhelmed by the heartfelt emotion surging through him. Not only did the exasperating woman make him laugh, and the mere sight of her distracted him to no end, she also made him see things differently. As if every day was new and exciting.

And now he had to face the strong possibility he may never see Sam again.