Bryony threw off the top of her bedroll with a sigh, then rummaged in her pack for her journal. No good would come of lying abed and replaying what had happened over and over in her mind. She was better off getting up and trying to record the path they’d taken over the mountain. Her maps might be crude, but they were in completely uncharted territory, and maybe a cartographer or explorer or someone else back home would find them useful.
Before leaving on their expedition, she hadn’t even been able to find a reliable map of the Stikine and Iskut Rivers. She’d had to rely on written descriptions.A winding river that runs both north and south, extending into Canada in the north, with an outlet near Wrangell.OrA long river with multiple bends that is surrounded by mountains and runs from Canada to Alaska.
So she took out her pencils and charcoal, then sat against the wall and went to work, the light from the fire just bright enough for her to draw.
At some point, noise sounded from the front of the cave, and she tensed, only to realize the sound was Mikhail coming back from wherever he’d been. But she didn’t see a rabbit or squirrel in his hand. In fact, he didn’t have anything that indicated what might have driven him back into the storm after dark.
Their eyes met the moment he stepped inside, but he glanced at the others before approaching. “You should be sleeping.” His voice sounded low and serious, just like it always did, without any room for laughter or fun.
“I wanted to map the path we took over the mountain.” She looked down at her journal, only to realize she was no longer mapping the path but had turned to a new page and was sketching the cliff where Heath had almost fallen.
She snapped the journal closed, but not before Mikhail saw what she’d been drawing.
He didn’t say anything, just turned and moved away from her. He took the kettle from beside the fire, then headed back outside, leaving her sitting there with her arms wrapped around her knees.
He was back in under a minute, with what she guessed was a kettle filled with snow. Before he set it atop the flames, he unbuttoned his parka and spread it near the entrance of the cave, the large coat taking up almost the entire space of the opening.
Next, he went to his pack, where he pulled several large items out before retrieving a small pouch. He opened the pouch and dropped what looked to be some crushed leaves inside, then set the kettle over the fire.
This time when he approached her, he sat directly beside her, his back resting on the cold wall of the cave.
“Are you making me tea because I can’t sleep?” she asked.
“It’s ground fireweed root. Most of the tribes in Alaska use it to help people relax.”
Fireweed. Before leaving Washington, DC, she’d read about it being native to Alaska, and they’d seen plenty of it in bloom at the beginning of the summer. She’d drawn multiple sketches of the plant, and Dr. Ottingford had collected specimens. But she hadn’t known the roots were purported to have medicinal properties. “Does it work?”
He shrugged. “It usually helps me.”
“I...” She stared at the fire, where the kettle would soon be boiling. When was the last time someone had made her tea? Or cookies? Or even a sandwich?
The tea was a simple kindness. Nothing that had taken him too long or required too much effort, and yet, her eyes felt suddenly hot. “You didn’t need to go out of your way just for me.”
Mikhail angled his gaze in her direction, his eyes snagging hers.
She sucked in a breath, the air stilling in her lungs. What did he see when he looked at her? A disheveled girl who was lucky to be alive after being lost in the wilderness for almost two months?
A woman who was foolish for wanting to accompany her father and brother on an expedition to such a remote place?
Or did he see something else? Something even worse?
“Your brother almost died today.” His voice was gentle when he finally spoke. “A pot of tea is the least I can do.”
Now her eyes really did burn. She blinked and turned her head away before any tears fell.
“It’s okay to be upset. I’ve come close to losing people on the trail before. I know how it feels.”
“Will you have trouble sleeping tonight too?” Her throat felt raw, but she’d managed to stave off her tears.
“Without the fireweed, I would. Yes.”
She couldn’t quite say what compelled her to reach out and take Mikhail’s hand. She only knew that when she did, he didn’t pull away. Instead he opened it, wrapping his hand around hers until her fingers were engulfed in his warmth.
“Thank you for saving him, for leading us, for taking such good care of us.”
He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, the silence lingering between them while the dying fire cast dark shadows over them. Outside the wind howled and snow had piled near the entrance of the cave, but the space inside felt close and comforting, even safe.
Because of the man sitting beside her.
