“You shouldn’t eat food from people you don’t know,” Wyatt said.
“Yeah? You ate my food.”
“That’s different.”
She picked up the second brownie and took a big bite, enjoying the rich chocolaty flavor as much as she enjoyed the way Wyatt scowled at her.
“Have you always been defiant?”
She smiled around the brownie. “Little bit.”
“Well, better hope they’re not ‘special brownies.’”
“Special...” Midchew, she looked down at the remaining piece, her appetite suddenly gone. She assessed her mental faculties. Was she feeling a little funny? She didn’t think so, but maybe it was too soon to feel the effects. She forced herself to swallow the bite.
Wyatt’s low chuckle carried across the site. His smile—the first she’d seen from him—was a little crooked, and surprisingly, a dimple flashed on the left side. If she’d thought him attractive before...
“It’s not funny,” she said, even though the throaty sound of his laughter sent tingles down her spine.
“It’s a little funny.” He chuckled again and went back to whittling. “The look on your face.”
It took everything in her to keep from smiling in return. He looked so different when he laughed. He should do it more often. Then again, maybe it was better if he didn’t. She didn’t need to be attracted to some out-of-towner who carried a gun, sported a gunshot wound, and had a mysterious job in “security.”
She glanced at the time and checked her phone again for a signal. No bars, even when she got up and held the phone in the air.
“There’s a signal up by the creek,” Wyatt said. “Not much of one, but something.”
“I should try to call Molly.” Wouldn’t hurt for him to know someone knew and cared where she was. She fished a flashlight from her bag to save the phone battery. “Be back in a minute.”
He jerked his chin in a nod.
She slipped past him and headed down the trail. She hoped she could reach her sister. If Molly knew exactly where Grace was, it would ease both their minds. It took a little longer to reach the creek in the dark. She checked her phone and found only one bar. Maybe enough.
She placed the call, the sound of the rippling creek mingling with other night sounds—the high-pitched chirp of crickets, the intermittent call of katydids, and the lonely hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance.
“It’s about time,” Molly said by way of greeting. “I was just telling Adam I hadn’t heard from you all day. I was getting worried.”
“You know how reception is out here.”
“Is everything all right? Is Wyatt behaving himself?”
“Of course. Everything’s fine. We set up camp before dark—we’re staying at that old campground by Lone Creek.”
“Okay... Is anyone else there?”
“A few guys, hanging out.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I’m fine. Wyatt’s in security, remember? And he also carries, so we’re well protected.” She wasn’t sure why she added that. Maybe she wanted someone to know just in case.
“What? He has a gun? Grace, I don’t like this at all. You don’t know the man. Is he there now listening to our conversation? I’m coming to get you right now.”
“Jeez, chill out, Molly. Everything’s fine. He’s sitting by the fire whittling something. We’re going to head farther up into the mountains tomorrow, then we’ll return by way of the road. We need to make the most of our time so don’t look for me to come home until dark.”
“No, I don’t like this. Let me come get you. I can be there in less than thirty minutes.”
“And then what? I desert our guest after I agreed to accompany him? And let him think we believe he’s some kind of psycho? This is my job, Molly. Just let me do it.”
