“What? No way.” I stand up before I remember I’m not wearing any pants. Just my tank and underwear. Micah’s eyes run up and down my body urgently before I can reach for my jeans and pull them up. “You’re in no shape to walk miles and miles.”
“Sure I am. Be good to stretch my legs.”
“It’s not a leisurely hike, Micah. You’ll blow a hole in your recovery.”
“No, I won’t. I feel pretty good today. And I’m notgonna sit around on my ass while you’re out there restocking ’cause I ate half your food.”
This makes me choke on a laugh. “You ate more than half.”
“See? What you had woulda lasted you two weeks if I hadn’t been here. I’m comin’ with you.”
I roll my eyes as I pull on my sweatshirt. “Whatever. I can’t stop you, but I’m not going to wait for you either. You fall behind, you’re on your own.”
“Fair deal.”
I should have knownto expect it, but Micah doesn’t fall behind. Maybe he really is that recovered, or maybe he’s toughing it out to prove a point. But he keeps pace with me on the whole hike to the cave where I store the salvaged items.
Because he’s with me and I’m worried he’ll overdo it, I don’t take the time to search for more goods to trade. I pick out some soap for sensitive skin and a box of sugar packets and put them in my backpack for trade. Then I dig around in a tub where I’ve kept smaller items and pull out a bottle of Tylenol and some antiseptic salve. I put it in my wagon with an extra blanket to replenish what I used on Micah over the past few days.
“There’s coffee in here!” Micah has been leaning over, rifling through one of the crates.
“I know.”
“We should take some. I’d kill for a good cup of coffee.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s one of the most valuable things I’ve got. I’m not going to waste it by using it myself.”
“Why would it be wasted if you use it yourself?”
“Because I can get a lot more from it for trade.” He’s frowning at me, so I add, “We’ve been fine without coffee for a long time. We’ll be fine without it now.”
“But look at it all warm and toasty and delicious.”
I giggle because now he’s just teasing, gazing lustfully at the image under the familiar brand logo on the vacuum-sealed pack of coffee. He carefully puts it back in the crate. His features tighten as he straightens.
He catches my told-you look but only grins endearingly. “I’m doin’ just fine.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So we headin’ to Cleverly now?”
“Yeah. You need to rest?”
“Nope.”
We’re about halfwayto Cleverly when someone approaches on the trail from the opposite direction.
It’s so empty in this area of the Wild that a chill ofwarning runs down my spine. I slow down. Pull my pistol out of its holster.
Micah didn’t bring his shotgun, but he pulls out his handgun too. He puts his free hand on the small of my back as we walk as if he’s preparing to grab for me.
I’m not used to it. Having someone else with me when I face danger.
The group approaching is three men—another warning sign. Men with women aren’t safe, but they’re safer than men alone. And men in a group are undoubtedly the worst.
