Davis barked a laugh, though her comment twisted sharply in his chest. “My tortured soul is pouring from my gaze? What the heck does that even mean?”
She rounded and stalked back to him, stopping when their toes practically touched. His pulse hitched at her intensity.
“It means I can see the struggle you’re having, can feel conflict fairly pulsing from you.” She placed her palm over his heart, her words stripping his defenses and leaving him exposed. “You say I shouldn’t trust you, which tells me you’re waging a battle within that you can’t see the end to. But I’m telling you right now, Davis Fields, no matter your past, no matter who you think you are, I know a decent, honorable, and caring man when I see one.” She shrugged, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “I grew up surrounded by examples of what a good man looks like, and you more than live up to them.”
His throat ached with the power and conviction in her voice. He wanted her words to be true, to find his way back to who he always wanted to be. Maybe, with her help, the fight back wouldn’t be so daunting.
He slipped one hand over hers, still pressed against his chest, then cupped the other around the back of her neck. Her lips parted slightly as she inhaled a shallow breath, then held it. Could she feel his heart hammering against his ribs? He slid his thumb across her pulse point in her neck and found it thumping like hummingbird wings.
He inched forward, her lemony exhale brushing his skin a second before he captured her satin lips with his. She sighed and leaned into him. Her hand twisted in his, her fingers threading through his own. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer. His hope thumped in his ears and soared higher than the clouds.
She pulled away a fraction of an inch, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “Do you hear that?”
“All I hear is my pulse rushing in my ears.” He kissed her again.
Her smile against his lips made him want to stay right there forever.
She pushed away from him. “It sounds like a helicopter.”
He froze, all his senses zeroing in on what she heard. The thump-thump of a helicopter sounded in the distance. Sunny bounced on her toes, pulled him close, and pecked him on the mouth.
“Bjørn.” She stepped away, excitement filling her face. “I knew my parents would send in the cavalry when I didn’t contact them.” She pulled on Davis’s hand. “Come on. We have to find an open space.”
She rushed through the forest without waiting for a response. He took off after her, pulling his binoculars from the side pocket of his pack. If her brother Bjørn was there with his helicopter, searching for them, then Davis could get word to the authorities and take down the men responsible for Justin’s death. Davis would make sure that the entire operation paid.
They broke through the forest and stumbled to a stop at the clearing riddled with blown down trees.
“Microburst.” Sunny heaved out between breaths.
He’d heard of the tunnel of sinking air that could descend on an area during a thunderstorm. He’d just never seen the destruction it could create. There had to be at least a mile or two of trees jumbled like a giant game of pick-up sticks.
“Come on.” Sunny rushed into the clearing, running along the length of the first downed tree, before jumping to the next.
Davis followed and quickly wished for a field of swampy muskeg. Picking his way through the mess of limbs and trees frustrated him with the exertion required. The helicopter’s thumping grew louder.
“Sunny, wait.”
He clambered up beside her and peered through the binoculars. A flash of light reflecting in the distance pulled his attention to the side of the machine. Something about the helicopter didn’t seem right, but then again, Bjørn had gotten a new one since the last time Davis had talked to him. He adjusted the binoculars and handed them to her. Her chest heaved as she surveyed the helicopter for several seconds.
Her forehead creased and head shook. “That’s not Bjørn.”
She swallowed and looked at Davis. All the color drained from her face, leaving her bronzed skin chalky. If it wasn’t Bjørn, then who else could be out in the wilderness this far?
“Maybe Dad contacted one of his friends at 40-Mile Air?” Her voice shook, not truly confident in the statement.
Davis wasn’t waiting to find out. He scanned around them, angry that he’d let his guard down, and now they were stuck in a mess of logs. They wouldn’t be able to get to the cover of the forest before they were spotted. He wanted a better look at the helicopter but needed to get that glimpse from cover before they showed themselves.
A stack of torn up trees bigger than the rest sat twenty feet away. Maybe they could hide underneath.
“Go.” He pointed and pushed in the direction he indicated. “We need to hide.”
She took off, jumping over tree trunks and roots like a gazelle, all while keeping as much debris between her and the helicopter’s line of sight. He kept his gaze trained on the helicopter as he followed her. The longer he looked, the more convinced he was that it wasn’t a local’s helicopter used for guiding hunters. This bird was military-grade. He just wasn’t sure if it was friend or foe.
When they made it to the bigger stack, relief flooded him at the pocket of space deep beneath the logs. He peeked over the top tree as Sunny climbed in, his anxiety ratcheting up as the helicopter veered its course toward them. Had they been spotted? It wasn’t possible from that distance… unless—he shoved the binoculars into his pack and pushed it ahead into the space beside Sunny.
“Do you have any emergency blankets?” His question came out sharp and quick as he dug through his pack.
“Yes.” She didn’t ask anything else, just got to work finding it.