The socks he’d given her were silky smooth and blessedly warm, but on her ravaged feet they might as well be made of loofah. The boots weren’t much better. Rocks and sticks were no longer a threat, but the shoes seemed to rub every scratch and blister.
When did I become such a whiny baby?
Who cared if her throat was parched and her head pounded and her legs were ready to give out? Meg might be in far worse shape. If nothing else, Lindsey had her freedom, and now, her own personal savior. The rest meant nothing.
“You all right?” Todd asked from behind her.
“Still fine.”
“Let’s take a water break.” He stopped and lowered his pack to the ground.
Oh, thank God. She dropped onto a wide, flat boulder at the side of the trail, forcing herself to stay upright rather than tipping onto her side and closing her eyes.
He took a swig from an aluminum bottle as if to assure her its contents were safe before handing it to her. “You look dead on your feet. When was the last time you ate something?”
She was too busy drinking to answer.
“Whoa, slow down.”
Reluctantly, she stopped and took a breath before sipping at the crisp water like tea. “Thank you.”
His pale brows furrowed. “How long have you gone without water?”
“What time is it now?” Her watch had broken loose in the fall and was probably partying it up with the flip-flops right now. She took a few more greedy sips of cool liquid.
“Nearly four-thirty,” he said.
“Almost a day.”
He frowned. “And food?”
“Same.”
Without a word, he produced an energy bar. She didn’t even bother to protest, just took it with sincere thanks and dug in.
While she ate the bar and finished off the water, he pushed his sunglasses onto his head and smeared sunscreen over his face, ears, neck, and arms. The strong, capable arms that had pulled her to safety.
He was long and lean, superbly built without looking like a gorilla. Maybe a couple inches taller than her.
Based on the fine lines around his eyes and the hollow of his cheeks, she’d peg him in his early to mid-thirties. Basically, her age. And way out of her league. Not that she should be living in a swamp or anything, but he wasbeautiful.
And, what the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t a freaking blind date.
“Feeling better?” he asked, jolting her out of her thoughts and offering her the bottle of sunscreen.
“Much.” The food and water had revived her somewhat, but she still felt the deep pull of fatigue as she rubbed the coconut-scented cream into her skin. “Thanks.”
“Your color’s definitely improved. How are your feet?”
Throbbing. Along with everything else. “I can walk.”
“I know youcan. I’ve watched you for the last half-hour.” He crouched before her, resting his elbows on his knees. “But you’re losing steam.”
“I’m—”
“And, frankly, at the pace we’re going, we don’t have a chance of getting off the mountain tonight.”
All the fight drained out of her. He was right. She was slowing them both down. Why was she being so stubborn? A long sigh escaped her. “You think you can carry me all the way down? I’m not exactly petite.”
