“Patience is required, but I prefer them to praying mantis any day.”
She gaped. “Now you’re just pulling my leg. A praying mantis cannot be edible.”
“Kid you not. They’re 58 percent protein, twelve percent fat, three percent ash, with a dash of vitamin B complex and vitamin A tossed in. The outer skeleton is a compound of sugar and amino acids. They taste okay, but man, you gotta get past the crunch factor.”
She shook her head. “You really do have an encyclopedia in your head, don’t you?”
He tried to appear nonchalant at the praise. “Only about survival stuff and college basketball stats.”
“You’ve studied hard.”
“Harder than anyone else.” He realized it sounded arrogant. “I never wanted anyone to suffer or not make it home because I didn’t know what to do.”
Her hair was drying into soft waves around her cheeks, curly like she’d worn it in college. He liked it that way.
Her eyes locked on his. “And that’s how you live your life, taking responsibility for people.”
Her demeanor was difficult to read. Was it a dig? “No, just for myself. Everybody makes their own choices.”
“And you’re really choosing to leave your career behind soon. Returning to civilian life and building a business. I can’t picture it.”
“It’s time. My family stepped up for me. So it’s my turn to do the same. I’ll get my survival classes started. Help my parents with the farm. Take care of Mom.” He pictured his mother’s worn face, the cheeks that had never regained their plumpness after the cancer treatments, the energy in her movements that had also diminished.
“How is she doing with the cancer? My mom filled me in. She said the surgery was successful and she tolerated the chemo.”
And Mackenzie’d been interested enough to remember the details? “Mom’s doing well. I’m going to make sure she can take it easy so it stays that way. My brothers and cousin handled things all these years while I’ve been in the Air Force. They made sacrifices so I could have my career.”
Her smile faded. Thinking of Aaron? The military career he had and lost? The tech company he talked about constantly but hadn’t lived to nurture? The drug culture he’d become prey to and part of? Anger prickled his belly. Aaron made his own choices and he’d paid for them. Hissister didn’t have to, and Aaron wouldn’t want that anyway. Why couldn’t she see that?
Don’t die for his choices, Zee.
She balled up her tinfoil and put the candy wrapper in her pocket, then pushed her chair from the table. He didn’t know how to make her stay.
He wanted to keep the conversation going, restore them to the easy banter that had delighted him, but he felt it slipping away. “Anyway, my days of eating praying mantis are hopefully in the past now,” he said hurriedly.
Her smile returned.There you go, Gid.
She tapped the tinfoil ball. “I’ve never eaten mantis, but this has to be better.”
“No question.”
“Tastiest meal I ever ate.” The watery moonlight plated her eyes in silver. “Thank you, Gideon.” Her tone was humble and sincere with a hint of tears.
“My pleasure.” And it was. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy to cook for someone, if dumping and cooking could be considered the same thing. Maybe the chicken soup he’d produced for his mom after her first cancer treatment when he was on leave had come close. Every mouthful she swallowed, he counted as an enormous win, his father hovering anxiously over the process as much as Gideon and his brothers. His gaze drifted across the room to the cookbook. At present, he believed he could cheerfully polish off 365 bowls of soup. When they made it back, he’d try each and every recipe.
Mackenzie yawned, which made him do the same. Fatigue rolled over him like a landslide. They had to rest if they were to keep going. He heaved himself to his feet. Itwas cold, still, uncomfortably so. He chafed his arms and moved around to warm himself.
Mackenzie did a few laps, too, until they met at the map ensconced under the glass sheet.
“Some sort of terrain mapping tool?” she guessed.
“It’s an old firefinder.” He grazed a finger over the topographic map centered on the table. A circular rim rose up around it, marked in degrees. “You move these sights, look through the hole, and view the crosshairs in the farther sight aligned with the fire. Back in the day it was used to pinpoint the location of the blaze before there were drones and satellites and the like. Old-school but accurate.”
She bent closer.
His finger tapped on a point on the map. “Here’s where my Jeep’s parked on the bridge.”
She indicated another location with her forefinger. “And here’s the airstrip.”
