I wipe some of the sweat from his face because it’s dripping everywhere, but that feels too intimate too, so I stop.
I sit there on the lounge across from the bed and stare at him, Molly curled up beside me with her head down but an eye on the intruder.
This man shouldn’t be here. I really want him gone.
But I also don’t want him to die.
He mumbles something under his breath, and the only word I can make out is “bunny.” He must really be into his woman if he can’t stop babbling about her.
The three of us stay like that for almost two hours. Then his eyes finally flicker open and land unerringly on my face.
I stare back at him.
He shifts slightly, wincing as he does. He lifts his headto visually examine his situation—the small camper bed, the blanket over him, me and Molly on the lounge nearby.
“You need anything?” I ask at last. He looks a little better. Much less pale than he was earlier, and he’s neither shivering nor sweating right now.
“Water, if you have it.”
Water is something I always have. I get it from the creek and boil it to kill any germs. Then I fill gallon jugs with it, so I always have it when I need it.
I pour out a glass for him and bring it over. He lifts his head and reaches for the glass, but when his hand shakes, I hold the glass steady for him as he sips it.
He takes one swallow after another until he’s drunk half the glass. Then he rests his head back on the pillow. “Thanks.” He clears his throat and blinks several times. “I’m Micah.”
“Kat.”
His eyes follow me as I set the glass on the counter and sit back down, reaching over to stroke Molly, who has sat up, ready for action. “With aCor aK?”
“AK. They tried to call me Kathy when I was little until I made them change it to Kat.”
“You definitely look more like a Kat than a Kathy.” His eyes are weak but warmly amused.
I have no idea why he’d be either warm or amused. He might no longer be close to death, but he’s in pretty bad shape right now.
“Do you live by yourself all the way out here?”
I frown. “Why is that any of your business?”
“It’s not. Just curious. I’m surprised. Women don’t usually live on their own anymore.”
“I know. But I can take care of myself. That’s a lot safer than trusting men.”
His eyebrows lift slightly but not in surprise. “Which man broke your trust?”
“Why do you assume there’s only one?”
His lips open and close, like it’s a response to whatever he’s thinking. Then he nods slightly. “I can move out of your bed if you want me to. I think I’m up to hauling myself to my feet.”
“No. I can turn that table into another bed, and you’ve already bled and sweated all over that one.”
He gives a short, choppy laugh and relaxes again.
He seems to be a fairly good-natured guy. I wouldn’t have guessed it from his intimidating appearance. His hair in the sun coming in one of the small windows has a slight reddish cast to the brown, and he’s got a crease in one cheek that’s almost—almost—a dimple.
Cleaned up and healthy, he’s probably a very attractive man.
Not that I care about such things anymore.
