After the publication of those articles, he’d decided to start writing letters to the Department of the Interior instead, asking that certain sections of Alaska be closed to open-pit mining, like what was taking place on Douglas Island. Alaska might be beautiful, but it wouldn’t stay that way if the mountains were opened up from the top down in search of gold or the pine trees lost their needles because the stench of chemicals used to refine the gold was so strong.
“Did you like the articles?” He couldn’t say what prodded him to ask the question, other than he was starting to feel a bit bored tromping down the monotonous trail. The woman beside him was nothing more than a stranger. He shouldn’t care whether she liked his articles.
No. Correction. He didn’t care. Not one tiny bit.
Which was why he didn’t let himself notice when her eyes brightened and her face blossomed into a smile at his question. “Oh yes. I mean, when I first read your articles, I didn’t believe a place like this existed, with mountains rising straight up from the sea, and whales and seals playing in the bays. I didn’t think there was a place where mountains could extend forever either, peak upon peak, broken only by the most beautiful green forests and turquoise lakes in the valleys. At least not until I arrived in Alaska and saw things for myself.”
And right there he’d heard more words from her than she’d spoken in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe she wasn’t that shy after all. Maybe she just needed to be asked the right questions to come out of her shell.
Like a turtle.
Wait. Had he just compared the woman with creamy skin and wavy red hair and bright hazel eyes to a turtle?
Heaven help him.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” she asked as the wind chose that exact moment to catch a strand of her loose hair and sweep it across her cheek.
Because evidently nature itself was determined to remind him that the woman beside him was not, in fact, a turtle.
“Yes,” he gritted. “Why?”
She peeked up at him, then moved her eyes back to her feet. “No reason. Sorry.”
He could feel the scowl on his face. Drat. How had he ended up frowning again? He didn’t need this woman to be afraid of him, not when they were all going to have to work together to get everyone out of the wilderness before the snow came.
He blew out a breath and forced the muscles of his face to relax as he looked around once more, trying to see their surroundings through her eyes, trying to enjoy the splendor of it.
He normally could. That was one of the things he loved most about Alaska, the raw beauty that surrounded him everywhere he looked. But right now, the mountains felt more like obstacles than a scene to admire. “We’re moving slower than I’d like.”
“Is that what has you upset?” Miss Wetherby glanced up at the sky. “I was half expecting to wake to snow this morning. Instead we have sun.”
“I’m grateful for it. It gives us at least one more day without snow.”
“How much longer do you think we have until the snow comes?” She moved her gaze to the towering white peak of the mountain in front of them.
He sighed. “I can’t say. Hopefully five days.”
“Is that how long it will take us to get to the river? Or how long it will take us to get to Sitka?”
Bryony Wetherby might be gaunt, but she was also curious. And after half a day of walking, it looked like she was ready to come out of her shell—which did not remotely resemble the shell of a turtle—and her curiosity was finally getting the better of her.
He found himself relaxing the muscles of his face once more so he didn’t end up scowling again as he answered her question.
It was the least he could do after she’d been trapped in a valley for weeks on end and voluntarily starved herself. “Depending on the weather, we should reach the Iskut River in three days. Then it will probably take half a week to get to the river’s mouth. From there, it should take around four days to reach Sitka by canoe, unless we find a ship headed that direction and hitch a ride.”
“What if snow comes to the river valley too? Will that mean we’re stuck here until spring?” Worry wrinkled the skin between her eyebrows.
Confound it. Now he wanted to reach out his thumb and smooth away the wrinkle. He forced himself to answer the question instead. “No. If the temperature drops suddenly and the river starts to freeze, it will mean we need to camp for a couple of weeks until the river freezes solid and we can follow it out. But it won’t mean we’re stuck here until spring.”
“So we’re not as lost as we thought?”
No. In fact, he was becoming more and more certain that Richard and Heath had known the way out the entire time. That after Jack died, they’d devised a plan to leave the two botanists and Miss Wetherby in that valley so they could search for gold.
Hadn’t Richard realized how dangerous that was? Surely the man was smart enough to understand that he shouldn’t leave people alone in one of the most dangerous places in the world when they’re more familiar with a science lab than the Alaskan wilderness.
“You look upset again.” Miss Wetherby’s brows drew down. “Are you sure nothing’s?—?”
He wasn’t sure what she slipped on. All he knew was that one moment she was at his side, chattering away, and the next she was careening toward the side of the mountain, arms flailing and a shriek erupting from her mouth.
