He’d said she was beautiful. Would he still think so as the water invaded his lungs and stripped his life away?
The pine needles dancing on the surface of the water twirled and tangled, and she suddenly realized the water was no longer rising. Or maybe it was a trick of her eyes? But the wondrous expression on Gideon’s face helped her believe it.
“Thank you, God,” Gideon said with a pump of his fist.
Her brain was turning in circles trying to comprehend that the massive flow was not going to overwhelm their perch. Her fingers were rigid from her death grip on the branch, and she had to force them to relax their hold.
“I’ll second that.” She stared at the glittering surface and the circling pine needles. “Is it ... is the water getting lower or am I dreaming that up?”
“No, you’re right.”
Gradually, incrementally, the gurgling swirl receded a few feet.
“Finding its way, settling into whatever creeks and gullies aren’t already full. We’ll wait a little while and see how it all levels out, okay?”
An excellent idea since her body felt paralyzed with the shock of their escape. She straightened cautiously so she could sit with her back against the trunk, astride the branch as if she were riding a horse. He sat opposite her, one hand holding the stubby limb she’d used minutes before to help him climb up.
He carefully maneuvered to extract a packet that he handed to her. “Protein bars. My last two. I was saving them for a special occasion.”
She laughed. “We’re really going to have a snack while sitting on a branch?”
He tore open his own protein bar wrapper and took a bite. “Really, can you think of a more memorable place to share a meal?”
She couldn’t.
“As a matter of fact ...” He grabbed his phone and extended his arm, leaning his face close to hers.
“Are you taking a selfie?”
“Say cheese.”
With a giggle she complied. Was this actually happening? Two days ago she never would have conceived of the things that had taken place, not the least of which was the fact that in that moment she was pleased to be taking a selfie with the man she’d recently detested. Gideon had enabled her to see the truth about Aaron, and though it stung like battery acid, it helped to know that Gideon loved her brother too, in spite of what Aaron had run away from in high school, and regardless of his work for Bullseye.
Gideon examined the photo, pleased.
The words came rushing out. “Gideon, I’m sorry about how I’ve treated you.”
He cocked his head at her. “You’ve said you’re sorry. You’re forgiven.”
She saw in his face that he meant it. For some inconceivable reason, he actually seemed to have moved past his own anger. He was a better person than she—moreforgiving than she’d ever realized, more kind than she’d allowed herself to believe.
How did she feel about him now? He wasn’t to blame for what happened to Aaron or for not helping her when she’d asked, and she’d been wrong to pin her fury on him. So what exactly was she doing in a tree, risking both their lives? Everything inside seemed to go wobbly at that moment, and she clenched her fists to remind herself of her mission.
The swirling water offered a distorted reflection back to her. She and Gideon looked like two thrill-seeking teenagers as they sat above the floodwaters, ate protein bars, and tried to figure out what their next step should be.
****
He should have been uncomfortable, concerned, obsessing about their newest predicament, but Gideon felt an illogical sense of euphoria sitting on that tree next to Mackenzie. There could be no stranger situation. Since he’d told her the truth about the fire in high school and they’d voiced aloud their conclusion that Aaron was likely dealing for Bullseye, he felt unburdened, light, that he could share space with Mackenzie with no lies between them.
And she appeared a bit less guarded with him, or so he imagined. Perhaps even welcoming of his presence? His young adult crush, sitting with him in a tree, sharing a smile with him.
Doesn’t mean she feels any kind of way, Gid. Don’t fool yourself.
He wouldn’t.
This wasn’t a path forward with a woman he’d pined for in his boyhood.
This was survival. Period. But at least they weren’t enemies anymore.
