“Why would you allow us to stay if you think we’re lying?” Mackenzie said, brows drawn in confusion.
Kevin shook his head. “My good deed for the day. Don’t get it twisted. I got me a shotgun next to my bed. Keeping prepared in case we attracted any looters. I’m a good shot and I have no problem dropping either of you where you stand. I’ll explain to the cops it was self-defense. My home and my family come first.”
Gideon looked to Mackenzie, who assented with a small nod. Though he wasn’t exactly easy in his spirit about the arrangement, he didn’t like their chances of traveling atnight in torrential rain. “Much appreciate your kindness, sir. We’ll take off at first light, be out of your hair.”
“If there is any light. Storm’s not expected to break. If the dam does finally give out, this valley is a disaster waiting to happen. Like I said, after tomorrow I’m out of here too, but I’m leaving for the stables at sunup. Main road’s right there anyway. I’ll give you both a lift.”
That would save them hours of arduous hiking. “That’s very generous. We’ll take you up on your offer.”
“Okay. It’s settled then.”
Gideon carried his and Mackenzie’s plates to the sink, where he started to wash them.
Kevin began to protest as Mackenzie cleared his.
“Let us,” she insisted, picking up the dish towel. “It’s the least we can do.”
Kevin yawned. “Okay. Twist my arm. Lynn would box my ears at letting a guest do the clearing up, but I won’t decline the offer. Put the leftovers in the fridge. I’ll take ’em with me tomorrow. Gonna hit the sack. Sunrise is at seven. Cordelia’s expecting me at the stables by eight to drop the trailer.”
“We’ll be ready. Thank you again, sir,” Gideon said.
Kevin lumbered off to his bedroom.
They heard the door shut and the lock engage. Gideon pondered what had just gone down. Kevin could have ulterior motives for encouraging them to stay. But what choice did they have but to accept his hospitality? They were battered, bruised, and desperately needed rest to keep their wits together. Hairy and his cohort were still out there, unlikely to stand down until they were certain they’d done their job.
No phone signal at the moment saved him from the prickly decision about contacting the police. He knew what Mackenzie would say about that.
The soapy water stung the cuts on his fingers as he washed. Mackenzie stood next to him and dried. Such a tranquil domestic scenario on the heels of all that happened today. From near death to dish duty. He tried not to feel strange about having her pressed against his shoulder, but all manner of feelings surfaced and disappeared inside him like the soap bubbles. She was alive, here, next to him, and they were united, for the moment, instead of enemies.
Post-traumatic reaction, Gid.She was stubborn and unpredictable, and he still had a full head of steam about her diving off the pier after the trouble he’d had getting her out the first time.
Best for him not to forget she was dynamite with a lit fuse.
When the dishes were done and stacked neatly on the counter, they moved to the sofa under the window. It wasn’t yet fully sunset, but it felt much later. Exhaustion nibbled at the corners of his conciousness.
Mackenzie peered at a stylized framed map on the wall. The town of Oakleaf. She stood and fingered the mountains in the distance, following the river back to the point where they’d fallen in, then skimmed over the Cotton Flower Dam. Kevin’s trailer, labeled “The Homestead,” was drawn on the map with a heart around it.
Gideon could practically see her wheels turning as she spun her plan together. His anger returned. Not done scheming? Their nearly fatal adventures hadn’t beenenough? Was there more she needed to endure to describe to her podcast fans?
If he didn’t unclench his jaw, he was going to crack a molar. He tried for a calming breath. What was the best way to make her see reason? Commands didn’t work. Suggestions wouldn’t make a dent. More facts about the danger they were facing? He gave that less than fifty-fifty. He prayed for patience and readied himself to start in. “Zee ...”
“This is my fault,” she blurted before he could say more, flopping down next to him.
“Completely,” he agreed with surprised gusto. At last. She was taking responsibility.
She frowned at him. “Well, maybe not absolutely completely. I didn’t want you to go after me and I told you as much. Repeatedly.”
Commands didn’t work on him either, not when they came from her. Go figure. He glared right back at her. “Barebones truth. You’d have drowned without me and you know it.”
“I’m stronger than you think.”
“And more reckless.”
She huffed out a breath and rubbed at the bruise on her forehead. “All right. That’s a fair point, but I didn’t want an escort. And I certainly don’t wantyourdeath on my conscience.”
“More like you didn’t want anyone around calling you out on your ridiculous choices.” He heard the quickening of her breath. He felt more at ease when they were sparring. That was infinitely better than the feelings that creptup when he allowed himself to consider what he’d experienced when he couldn’t locate her in that raging river.
He focused on the angry crimp of her mouth, but the slight curling of her hair still damp from the shower drew his attention. He wondered how soft it would be to his touch.
