Sunny glanced back at Davis as she trudged through the muskeg. She didn’t know what weighed heavier, her heart or her feet. Ever since she’d shifted their course, Davis hadn’t spoken more than a grunt or “okay?” He was back to the grump who wouldn’t talk to her. Shoot. Every time she caught him watching her, his grief slammed into her chest, like he stared at a dead woman.
Should they just turn around and go to Chicken?
She stepped on a clump of grass, and her foot sunk all the way to her knee, jolting her off balance.
“Stupid muskeg.” She growled and lifted her leg with a wet, slurpy squelch.
“Okay?” Davis’s low question made her eyes blur and nose sting.
No.
No, she wasn’t okay. The man she loved wouldn’t talk to her. They were walking into the enemy’s lair, probably to their doom, and that was all because of her. And now her pants clung, soaking and cold, to her leg.
“I miss the mineshaft.”
The words were out before she even thought them through. They were true, though. Trapped in that hole, she’d found hope and belonging in Davis’s love.
Davis grunted behind her, and she rolled her eyes, quickly blinking them to dispel the tears. She’d just have to make sure they survived. Then, she’d grab the cantankerous man by the front of the shirt and … and …
And what?
Demand he love her?
Force him to stay with her forever and ever, amen?
She shook her head. This was who she was, blazing through life, helping others and finding adventures that almost always had danger. Just like she went all in with whatever challenge that rose ahead of her, she went all out for the people she cared about.
Shoot.
She even put her all in for people she didn’t know. It was the core of her. That was how her ex had duped her so easily, and she had assumed this naïve faith in others was a massive flaw. If she just stayed solo, she could fix it.
But she didn’t want to fix it.
Her trusting the good in people, the good in herself, propelled her to risk everything, even her life, for others. It’s what made her an excellent guide on the mountain and what gave her the most fulfillment.
She glanced back at Davis, and his tight shoulders and hanging head broadcasted his displeasure. If he couldn’t see that what made her shine was her willingness to burn out, incinerate herself for others, then they’d never truly be happy.
And yet, she didn’t want to adventure alone anymore.
She wanted to lead people through their wilderness experiences. She longed for Davis to be there beside her, his steady love grounding her, protecting her. But his lack of trust in himself would destroy all that connected them.
She stomped forward, kicking a branch out of her way with more force than necessary. The muskeg gave way to willows, and she pushed through the trees. The branches snagged her hair. Tight trunks closed her in, making it like pushing past prison cell bars. Her pack hung up on a broken branch, and she yanked it through with a frustrated growl.
Misery.
That’s what this adventure had turned into. She should’ve picked a different area, one that might actually be pleasant to slog through … like a Costa Rican jungle along a beach. But then she wouldn’t have been here for Davis. He’d have died right alongside Justin, and everyone would have thought their deaths were a tragic accident.
She stumbled as she pushed through a barricade of willows to a clearing. Her foot caught on a downed tree, tripping her. Knees crashing to the ground, she caught herself before she face-planted into a wild raspberry bush. Pain speared through her already beat-up hands.
“Ouch.” She groaned as she tried to get up.
Davis’s arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her up in a flash. There were definite benefits to having a strong hiking partner. The bush’s thorns would’ve dealt out more injuries if she’d had to struggle up on her own.
When she was on her feet, Davis placed his hand on her cheek, examining her with apprehensive eyes, then gently cupped her hands in his, shifting his scrutiny to her fingers and palms. He pulled a hiss through his teeth and shook his head. Tiny thorns covered her palms.
“You really did a good one.” His low, pained words rumbled softly over her, saturating her in guilt.
“Yeah.” She swallowed down the overwhelming need to beg him not to be mad. “Hurting myself seems to be a habit.”
“Hmm.” He tipped his head, motioning behind him. “Let’s rest in the cabin and get these cleaned up.”
Her gaze darted past him to a tiny structure, half sunk into the earth, that she hadn’t noticed when she fell into the clearing. Willows grew around it, hiding it behind green leaves. The back half of the building had sunk a good foot or more into the earth, a common problem with the permafrost. The graying logs and moss-covered roof of the cabin sloped down toward the back, giving the derelict cabin a kind of Dr. Seuss feel. Hopefully, the inside wasn’t overrun with vermin. Sleeping in there would hide them better than her bright tent.
She followed Davis to the structure, exhaustion turning her legs into wet noodles. They clomped onto the warped boards set up as a makeshift porch. He turned the homemade handle, but the door made from birch logs didn’t open. Her sigh came all the way from her toes.
“Is it locked?” She shifted her pack, wondering why anyone would lock a cabin way out here, especially with the Alaskan bush hospitality code: use the cabin, but leave it better than you found it.
“Just stuck.”
Davis rammed his shoulder into the wood. It creaked but didn’t budge. That door was solid as all get-out, and him banging on it would only get him hurt.
“We can just camp out here on the porch.” She scanned the tilting roof.
It looked sturdy enough. Davis slammed his body against the door again. The roof jerked, raining dirt down on her. She blinked and shook her hair out.
“Davis, this whole thing is going to come down if you keep it up.” Sunny bunched her muscles, preparing to jump to safety if the roof crashed down on them.
“Just one more …”
Davis’s next ram produced a loud scraping of wood on wood. The door opened half a foot. He wrapped his fingers around the door’s edge and gave it a push, screeching it loose further. She peeked in around his shoulder, then followed him in.
The inside smelled of decaying wood and fabric. The furnishings were sparse and handmade, only a table with two chairs and a twin bed. Two shelves hung on the walls. One over a makeshift counter had a few canned goods and a stack of dishes. A handful of books lined the other shelf.
She walked toward the bookshelf, smiling at how the floor sloped toward the back of the cabin, then disappeared into the ground it sank into. Louis L’amour titles mixed with old Alaskan plant and homesteading guides.
“Here, come sit next to the window.” Davis checked the chairs and tables for stability.
She pulled her pack’s strap off her shoulder, hissing as the thorns scraped against the fabric. With the next strap, she wiggled her arm to get it free and let the pack drop to the floor with a thunk. She sat in the chair, her plop sounding a lot like her pack had.
Davis dug out the first-aid kit and laid it out on the table. The other chair scraped as he dragged it beside hers. Without a word, he took her hand and bent over it with the tweezers. She jerked with each thorn he yanked out. He blew on the skin, and she closed her eyes to the sensation. She didn’t think it actually helped with the pain, but it was such a caring action that it eased her muscles. He kissed her palm, and she opened her eyes.
“Next.” His raw voice scraped against her heart.
He didn’t like causing her pain. She smiled wearily as she handed him her other hand. His eyebrows bunched as he looked at the more mangled hand. With her good hand, she ran her fingers through his hair. He’d let the top grow long since last spring, and it curled wildly around his ears and down his neck.
“Sunny, you’re a mess.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” She dropped her hand and stared out the grimy window the table was pushed under.
He cleared his throat. She could feel his stare on her, but she couldn’t look at him. There was no way she could handle the disappointment she’d see there. Not right now when everything hurt and exhaustion pulled at her. Silence stretched between them as he continued to doctor her hand. The fireweed waved in the breeze, their purply-pink blossoms blurring in her unfocused gaze.
“Done.” Davis pressed another kiss to her palm. “All better.”
“Thanks.” She flexed her palm at the throbbing ache.
“Listen—”
The beep of her InReach, clipped to her pack, snapped both of their attentions to it. She scrambled from the chair, and her knees almost buckled at the icon showing they had service. Thrusting the device at Davis, she bounced with the jolt of energy.
“You send for help first.”
She clasped her hands together and pressed them to her mouth, silently praying they’d get a message out. His fingers raced over the buttons. When he pressed send and the confirmation tone beeped, she had to tighten her knees to keep from collapsing.
“Text your family.” He handed the InReach to her.
Just as she typed her message, the connection dropped.
“What?” She shook it. “No, you stupid thing.”
She pressed the message and hit send just in case. Nothing. Growling, she darted her gaze to Davis.
“Why would it do that? It makes no sense.”
Davis’s eyes widened. He jerked his head to look out the window. His jaw clenched.
“Get your gear.” His words fired out. “We have to leave.”
“Why?” she asked, but she didn’t wait for the answer to lift her pack.
“I’m not sure. Gut feeling.” Davis packed up the first-aid kit and pushed her toward the door. “You can’t pinpoint a signal if it’s not working.”
Her steps froze on the porch as what he said fully registered. If their enemy could somehow track their signal, then Davis’s message just gave their location away.
“Why wouldn’t they just keep it on then? Find us quicker?” She turned to him.
“We’d be able to get messages out to the authorities. This way, they know where to start looking.” He stepped up to her, squeezing her elbow. “Don’t worry. We’ll make clear tracks south toward Chicken, then circle back. I won’t let them find us.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump of fear choking her. She may act tough, declaring their need to infiltrate enemy lines. But if these guys had tech this sophisticated, her and Davis’s sneaking might lead them right into destruction.