“A fire watchtower,” she said, as if she didn’t believe it either.
“Shelter acquired.” He waved a careless hand and fired off a cocky grin. “It’s like I’m not even trying.”
Her laugh was tired and reckless and beautiful as she took in the dizzyingly high ladder they would need to climb. She chafed her palms together.
His hands were just as numb. Would they be able to grip well enough to keep from falling? But it was still respite from the elements, better than the emergency shelter he could fashion on the sodden ground. “You game?” he said above the noise. “There’s a bit of climbing required to check into this hotel, but the views will be worth it.”
Her smile was forced. “Anything to get out of this rain.”
He pulled away some prickly shrubbery and started up the ladder, testing the first few rungs. Could they really have a dry place to rest, safe from Bullseye’s men? It was almost too much to ask for. And what condition would the structure be in once they arrived at the top? As long as it was somewhat dry and enclosed, it had to be an improvement. “Feels sound enough, but it looks like it’s been out of service for a while. How about I go up first and check it out? You wait here.”
“I’m coming with you.”
He didn’t have the energy to argue with her. The last splotches of gray sky gave way to ebony as they hauled themselves rung by rung to the top, then emerged through a hatch onto a wooden platform that wrapped around the entire building. Calf muscles quivering, he surveyed the structure while she clung to the railing. The paint had long since chipped away from the exterior, but the silvery boards were intact, the glass windows too, except for a few cracks and one small broken pane. The wood planking under their feet was solid.
Gideon tried the door. It opened. He kept his cool. Barely. “Unlocked, because who’d arrive uninvited?”
“Except us? No one,” she said through chattering teeth.
They stepped into one large square room that smelledlike the interior of his grandma’s old hope chest. Rainwater poured off them, rapidly forming a puddle on the floorboards. In the center was a small stove, and against one wall a set of narrow bunk beds, bare of bedding. A circular map underneath a dusty sheet of glass was centered on a table in the middle of the creaking floor, and a telescope was positioned in the corner. Certainly not high tech, but serviceable.
“All the comforts of home,” he said.
“Except your fancy coffee.”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
He stopped her when she reached for her flashlight. “Can’t risk it. Penlights only and shade it with your hand. Light shines for miles from this height.” And there were two men combing the soggy terrain for their prey. They’d have found the vehicle and possibly narrowed down the direction he and Mackenzie had taken.
Her shivering was impossible to ignore, his just as violent. The space was cold, extremely so. They had to get dry quickly. “Got any spare clothes in your pack?” he asked.
“No. The jail has all my worldly possessions except this outfit Kevin provided. I left the prison uniform on his porch.”
He pulled a tight bundle from his supply. “Put these on. It’s all gonna be huge but maybe adequate with some extreme measures.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure? What will you wear?”
“I’ve got something to use until Kevin’s borrowed clothes dry. Go change.”
“Uh, where do I ...”
He pointed to the corner and turned his back, studyingthe old firefinder and the map. “No peeking. I promise. I’ll just finish exploring the supplies.”
She scurried to the bunk area, and he took the opportunity to poke around. God might have provided some useful items along with the lifesaving shelter. He prowled, elated to find a few things that would help with survival and comfort. He moved on to what served as a kitchen area. He discovered a plastic baggie full of sugar and salt packets, which he immediately secreted in his pack. When he looked in the box by the telescope, the next prize had him almost crowing aloud.
Mackenzie approached and he did a double take, his find hidden behind his back. His sweatpants engulfed her slender legs and she’d taken a hair elastic and cinched them tighter around her waist. His sweatshirt was massive too, so she’d rolled up the cuffs. The crew socks puddled around her ankles, and she rested one foot atop the other. But her smile was so warm and lovely he felt transfixed by it.
“What?” She pirouetted. “I’m not doing your clothes justice?”
“They’ve never looked better,” he said, hand on his heart. Honest reaction he’d forgotten to suppress. He recovered. “And I have a gift for you. Here.” He produced the battered pair of stained leather hiking boots.
She gaped. “Boots? You found these here?”
“Previous tenant left them. Maybe a little too big, but ...”
She stared at them as if they were rare jewels. “Are you kidding? They’re perfect.” Flinging her arms wide, she hugged him. She might have meant it to be a momentaryaction, but his arms went around her and he held her close and she let him. Her body was soft against him, her hair smelling of rain and the curve of her cheek pressed to his chin. His heart lit up like a beacon.What? Why?He couldn’t explain the wild firing of emotion, but when she pulled away, turning to scurry to the lower bunk bed, his cheeks felt hot and his balance a little off.
Trauma bonding. Simple as that. Two people struggling to survive, emotions heightened due to the circumstances. Totally understandable. He wouldn’t let it get out of hand.
