I count to ten.
Dammit. I need a bed, some food, and some sleep. A week’s worth of sleep.
“See?” I say once I’m back in control of my childish impulse to cry. “I do need your help. You send me back to town and I’ll get lost, die and my frozen carcass will forever be on your conscience. You want me stumbling about out here in the dark, disturbing all your animal friends?”
I have no idea whether it’s my safety or the comfort of his furry critters that convinces him, but Caleb finally caves.
But not without a defeated sigh. Rubbing a pain from the back of his neck, he takes a moment to compose himself before boring down on me like an angry rhino.
“Fine,” he concedes.
Before I can say anything, my suitcase is snatched from my hand and hiked up under his arm. “But I’m not slowing down for you. You keep up or I’m leaving your ass in the mud this time.”
“Not a problem.” I say. I have no intention of lingering. Not now that the woodland is turning into something from Snow White’s worst nightmares.
But I quickly have to eat my words. Keeping up with Caleb Walker is easier said than done.
The man’s a machine. His legs carry him like two columns of strength, fueled by pistons that have him covering whole yards with every stride. His knowledge of the woods sets every foot securely in place. He never stumbles, he never falters, and he barely makes a sound. Despite his size, he moves as fluidly as a river navigating its banks, avoiding low-hanging branches and trip hazards that are now all but invisible in the nighttime darkness.
I’m less lucky.
As the sun races low for the horizon and disappears entirely, the forest becomes a confusing mass of charcoal shapes. The hooting of owls, the snuffling of nocturnal animals, and the drafty breeze between the trees morph our surroundings into a spooky thicket. At one point, I think I hear a wolf’s howl.
Gradually, the hulking silhouette of Caleb Walker stretches out ahead of me. The space between us grows wider, and he begins to leave me behind.
“Wait!” I call out, speeding up my steps. “Wait, I can’t walk that fast or I’ll—”
Too late.
My foot catches and my ankle twists. A sharp and flaring pain shoots up my leg.
My gasp of pain silences Caleb’s footsteps for a moment. Then they start up again, storming back in my direction.
“What did you do?”
My eyes are blurry with tears and my ears ring with my heartbeat. I can’t tell if he’s concerned or simply annoyed again. Either way, I’m angry as all hell.
“Nothing,” I lie. “I’m fine.”
Night vision is clearly one of Caleb’s wilderness talents because he takes one look at me and reads the truth of the situation.
When a low growl rumbles between us, I wonder about that wolf; if it’s come down from its mountainous home in pursuit of easy prey.
Like lost New Yorkers.
It’s not until a hard arm abruptly wraps around my waist that I realize the growl is coming from Caleb.
“Damn woman.”
His words are spoken so quietly I doubt I’m meant to hear it.
“Hey, wait a minute I—Ah!”
For the second time in ten minutes, the world twirls around me. I’m lifted from my feet and the tops of the trees are suddenly a hell of a lot closer. Then I’ve been flipped around and a hard mass comes up against my belly.
“Ooph!”
Suddenly, I’m looking at the ground. I blink, so entirely stunned that it takes me a moment to realize what has happened.