He seemed so unchanged from who he had been. He was still the life of the party, still perfect, still the person everyone wanted to be around. His words stunned her more than she wanted to admit. Did he trust anyone? How could he hide that kind of damage and still seem so…happy? She certainly wasn’t.
“Earth to Clara.” Carver waved his hand in front of her face, and she jolted. “Water?”
She swallowed, recognizing how dry her throat was. “Good idea.”
He turned off to walk down into the forest towards the stream. She carefully followed, wondering what else she would discover about him. One thing was certain. He wasn’t the same man who had broken up with her. She hadn’t yet figured out if that was good or bad.
22CARVER
They refilled their water bottles, neither saying a word. The threads of unspoken conversation brushed across Carver’s mind and he desperately wished something would ease the tension, and mend the bridge between them. What if things had been different? What if things were different now? If he explained himself, would she forgive him? Did he want her to forgive him?
The reality was harsh but he clung to it, desperate not to lose himself in possibilities. His reasoning three years ago was just as valid now. He couldn’t have her back. He still needed to keep her safe.Hewasn’t safe–not for her.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Man, he missed her. Her hands swung at her sides, and it took a brutal amount of restraint to avoid wrapping her hand in his. Truth was, he still loved her. He never stopped loving her. But she would never know that.
The day passed slowly, the sun never wavering in its attempt to bake them. As the sun moved lower, Carver suggested they double check the maps and ensure they were headed the right direction.
Clara traced her finger against the line they needed to follow and looked around. “We should leave the tracks and begin heading straight east towards Noxvalis.”
“Or, should we head northeast and hope to encounter a caravan we can ride in with? Will it look less suspicious if we are surrounded by people instead of showing up from the wrong direction looking harried from our trip?” He knew this was the better option. Obviously, two people claiming to be from Calyndor would not arrive from the most direct path. They needed to find a caravan. He needed Clara to come to that conclusion on her own. Otherwise, he would be attacked for trying to take control.
She gnawed her lip, “If we do that, we’ll spend a couple extra hours traveling. It will end up being a slightly further distance.”
He shrugged, his muscles aching with the motion. “Doesn’t matter that much, does it? We’re both in good shape.” He started to poke her bicep but caught himself before he broke the rule. He dropped his hand awkwardly, uncomfortable with the way her eyes traced its path the entire time.
“Okay.” Her eyes stayed on his hand, “Let’s keep walking then.”
She took off, and he struggled to put the map back as he trailed after her. “Hey, stop a second,” he requested. She obliged, clearly frustrated by the request. He returned the map to its spot and pulled out a compass so he could keep them on track. “I have a feeling I’m better versed at using this than you are. I’ll keep us on track.”
“Sounds brilliant.”
“You don’t have to be rude.”
“I don’t have to be, that’s true. But it’s so much more fun.” Her tone remained dry, and she hiked the straps of her bag further up her shoulders.
“You’re clearly exhausted. How much further do you want to walk tonight?” He flinched once the question was out. She wouldn’t receive that well.
He was correct. “I can keep going.” She snapped, picking up her pace.
“I know you can,” he presented as a peace offering, and her face calmed slightly. “I was just suggesting that for the sake of longevity we decide on a time to rest.”
“For the sake of longevity.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and picked at the ends of it, refusing to look at him. “I think we shouldn’t stop for at least another hour. Maybe stop when we find a relatively sheltered area of the forest to stay in?”
“Works for me.” His pride would never let him admit it, but he was as exhausted as she was, if not more so. The idea of sleeping on the ground out in the open sounded absolutely miserable, but at least he wouldn’t have to fight Clara on whether or not they should stay together. It was a small benefit to the great outdoors, he supposed.
After a while, Clara’s steps grew heavier. She tripped over a branch, a rock, and then what seemed to just be air. Carver didn’t comment, determined not to irk her so late at night. His own feet faltered a couple of times, and he was grateful for the litheness drilled into him through extensive training. Eventually, she tripped in a way she couldn’t quite brush off, so he pointed, “Look, those trees over there provide a relatively decent amount of shelter. Why don’t we crash there for the night.”
Her eyes scanned the landscape landing on where he pointed. The moonlight filtered through the trees just enough to show the outlines of everything. “Okay.”
Wow, she must be tired,he thought when she didn’t put up a fight. It was so unlike her. They carefully sat their bags down, and Clara rubbed her eyes.
Carver yawned as he opened his pack to pull out the blanket. He only had one, and no pillow. He folded one of his jackets to use as a pillow, and laid his blanket out in a way he hoped would work to use it both for bedding and as a covering. Clara did the same.
“You know, if it wasn’t for the rules, I’d be suggesting we use one blanket to lay on and the other to cover us.” He could feel the heat of her glare even in the darkness, and he was glad she couldn’t see how pink his cheeks were at the suggestion he offered.
“You’re exhausted, so I’ll let the comment slide.” She replied quietly, tiredness coating every word. “But continue to make comments like that, and I will have to consider it a breach of contract.”
“Breach of contract,” he yawned again. “You get so professional sounding when you’re tired.”
