ChapterTwenty-Four
Sunny glanced back at Davis as she trudged through the muskeg. She didn’t know what weighed heavier, her heart or her feet. Ever since she’d shifted their course, Davis hadn’t spoken more than a grunt or “okay?” He was back to the grump who wouldn’t talk to her. Shoot. Every time she caught him watching her, his grief slammed into her chest, like he stared at a dead woman.
Should they just turn around and go to Chicken?
She stepped on a clump of grass, and her foot sunk all the way to her knee, jolting her off balance.
“Stupid muskeg.” She growled and lifted her leg with a wet, slurpy squelch.
“Okay?” Davis’s low question made her eyes blur and nose sting.
No.
No, she wasn’t okay. The man she loved wouldn’t talk to her. They were walking into the enemy’s lair, probably to their doom, and that was all because of her. And now her pants clung, soaking and cold, to her leg.
“I miss the mineshaft.”
The words were out before she even thought them through. They were true, though. Trapped in that hole, she’d found hope and belonging in Davis’s love.
Davis grunted behind her, and she rolled her eyes, quickly blinking them to dispel the tears. She’d just have to make sure they survived. Then, she’d grab the cantankerous man by the front of the shirt and… and…
And what?
Demand he love her?
Force him to stay with her forever and ever, amen?
She shook her head. This was who she was, blazing through life, helping others and finding adventures that almost always had danger. Just like she went all in with whatever challenge that rose ahead of her, she went all out for the people she cared about.
Shoot.
She even put her all in for people she didn’t know. It was the core of her. That was how her ex had duped her so easily, and she had assumed this naïve faith in others was a massive flaw. If she just stayed solo, she could fix it.
But she didn’t want to fix it.
Her trusting the good in people, the good in herself, propelled her to risk everything, even her life, for others. It’s what made her an excellent guide on the mountain and what gave her the most fulfillment.
She glanced back at Davis, and his tight shoulders and hanging head broadcasted his displeasure. If he couldn’t see that what made her shine was her willingness to burn out, incinerate herself for others, then they’d never truly be happy.
And yet, she didn’t want to adventure alone anymore.
She wanted to lead people through their wilderness experiences. She longed for Davis to be there beside her, his steady love grounding her, protecting her. But his lack of trust in himself would destroy all that connected them.
She stomped forward, kicking a branch out of her way with more force than necessary. The muskeg gave way to willows, and she pushed through the trees. The branches snagged her hair. Tight trunks closed her in, making it like pushing past prison cell bars. Her pack hung up on a broken branch, and she yanked it through with a frustrated growl.
Misery.
That’s what this adventure had turned into. She should’ve picked a different area, one that might actually be pleasant to slog through… like a Costa Rican jungle along a beach. But then she wouldn’t have been here for Davis. He’d have died right alongside Justin, and everyone would have thought their deaths were a tragic accident.
She stumbled as she pushed through a barricade of willows to a clearing. Her foot caught on a downed tree, tripping her. Knees crashing to the ground, she caught herself before she face-planted into a wild raspberry bush. Pain speared through her already beat-up hands.
“Ouch.” She groaned as she tried to get up.
Davis’s arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her up in a flash. There were definite benefits to having a strong hiking partner. The bush’s thorns would’ve dealt out more injuries if she’d had to struggle up on her own.
When she was on her feet, Davis placed his hand on her cheek, examining her with apprehensive eyes, then gently cupped her hands in his, shifting his scrutiny to her fingers and palms. He pulled a hiss through his teeth and shook his head. Tiny thorns covered her palms.
“You really did a good one.” His low, pained words rumbled softly over her, saturating her in guilt.