CODYCROUCHEDATthe junction of stream and river, watching colors seep into the landscape after the gray dawn, long enough to be satisfied their stalker wasn’t lying in wait. If Cody was doing the sniping, he’d set up in that dip between the boulders on the far bank, in that clump of ferns upriver, on that rocky bluff.
The concrete sky sagged. The forest drooped with dew, as if salivating at the promise of rain. Far away one of Shane’s dogs barked, the echo bouncing around the valley. Cody turned his head to one side, listening. More barking. They were still a fair distance upriver but it was time to push on. He stood, rolling his shoulders. Time to wake Tia. He’d packed everything in the kayaks except the bedding.
He followed the stream back up, rubbing his nape. He’d hardly slept, but when did he ever? Having Tia naked in his arms was enough of a recharge. He’d lain there thinking too much, listening to the piercing calls of night birds, the hoot of a tiny owl that swooped in and out of a tree, the trickle and rush of water, the odd scraping and shuffling that had him on alert.
At the clearing, Tia sat studying the map, crunching into the apple he’d left for her, along with a nut bar and water. The sleeping bag, mat and tent were neatly stowed. She’d pulled back her hair, and her face was fierce with concentration. It was true what he’d said—she wasn’t like any woman he’d met. Tough and passionate. It’d take one hell of a man to count as her equal—and not a guy who’d spent six years on the run.You can’t shovel that shit while you’re swimming in it.Was that his problem? He was counting on time and distance to heal him, but the farther he ran from his guilt and grief, the heavier it got.
Tia looked up, rubbing her lips together as she spotted him. How would this go? It wasn’t your usual morning after. They’d crossed a line last night, and not just a physical one. The last couple of years he’d watched his best buddies hook up with the right woman at the wrong time. Never thought it’d happen to him.
And it wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t happening. Like she’d said, this was a fling between a local and a tourist, the kind of thing that happened every day—had probably happened that very day to a thousand people, from Kenya to Manhattan. Two people pairing up, having a good time, moving on. Happy blips. The what-if moment was inevitable but you pushed on through.
“We’ll need to bust a gut to get to the falls,” she said, snapping her gaze back to the map. “There’s a river crossing right before it—a swing bridge. I’ll feel better when we’re past that.”
He crossed the clearing. So that’s how it’d be—they’d forget it ever happened. Well, he’d never forget, but he could pretend, if that’s what she wanted. He’d also be good with stripping naked and resuming where they’d finished up last night, but maybe it was lucky they couldn’t.
“A bridge,” he said, catching up with her words. “Does that mean there’s a track?” Another escape route?
“Yeah, but it’s rough. An old hunting track that goes nowhere to nowhere, slowly.” She stretched her legs out. The dressing was soaked with blood. “The river’s still our best bet.”
“Want me to change that?” He nodded at her leg.
“Nah. It’s holding. We should go.” She went to push to her feet and stopped, wincing. He held out a hand. “I’m fine.” She tried again, smacked onto her ass, swore.
“It’ll take a while to loosen up again, after a night’s...rest,” he said.
Sighing, she clapped her hand into his and he pulled her up. He liked the weight of her. He liked that they were nearly eye to eye when standing. And he liked it even more when she gave in to a shy smile, pulled him closer and kissed him, as tender and intimate as sex had been last night. Is that what a relationship with her would be like—hot and fun but calming and fortifying, too?
Way too soon, she pulled away. Her smile faded, her eyes turning down in the creases. Laid bare and uncomfortable with it. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Last night was... Thanks.” There was a finality in her tone. Officially sealing the experience into the box marked One-Night Stand.
He should say something profound that would convey how much more it’d meant, without suggesting they had a future. He said the first words that came: “My pleasure.”
He felt like a jerk, but what could he say?I’ll call you. Let’s do this again sometime. Run away with me because you’re the hottest—and coolest—woman I’ve ever met.And then what? A woman couldn’t join the legion. And what would he do in Nowheresville, with too much time and space for dark thoughts? A few days in a year of days was cool, but any longer and he’d drown in the silence. Even if they went somewhere new, somewhere busy, his regret and heartache would come, too. She deserved better.
She stepped back and turned with a clumsy hop. “Right. Let’s get on the water.”
And there it was. The End.
Their awkwardness lifted after they pushed off, with rapids to force their concentration, and hard paddling in calmer waters. Her leg impeded her more than the day before, not that she complained. Hard to use the force in your arms without a solid anchor in your legs. After half an hour a light drizzle settled, more mist than rain. Icy drops trickled down his nape. Below Tia’s helmet, her hair glistened like a spiderweb beaded with dew.
The forest was noisy with birds—bells and whistles and coos and clicks and warbles and screeches and rustling that had him itchy with nerves. The hunter whistling? The clunk of a bolt sliding home? The rustle of dogs?
As he rounded a sharp corner approaching rapids, a parrot with a rust-red belly swooped across the river, screeching. He flinched. It barreled into foliage and disappeared.
“Kaka,” Tia said behind him. “I’ve never seen one up here. There used to be thousands.”
“Let me guess. Before humans?”
“Yep. We suck. Seriously, the world would be a better—”
He glanced over his shoulder. She was frowning at something ahead, on the right bank. He followed her gaze. A wire trailed downriver, attached to a tree root. He paddled into an eddy, skimmed his hand through the water and picked it up. It was no random piece of rubbish—someone had knotted it tight.
“Any good reason for this to be here?”
She eddied out behind him. “Look,” she said, nodding at the far bank. “Straight across. Another wire.”
It was tangled in scrub on the water’s edge. “The other end of this one? Why would you string a wire across a...” He blinked. “Shit. He clotheslined a kayaker?”
Cody yanked and the wire pinged free, the root splashing into the river. He coiled it and stashed it in his kayak.
