The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(43)

“I’m glad you don’t know everything about me.” She glanced at him through her lashes.

Any humor leaked out of his expression. “I’m beginning to think I don’t know you at all.”

She shifted to face him, her hand fisted in Jack’s fur. “In a good way or bad way?”

He studied her, and she forced herself to remain still, her nerves building, but not wanting him to know how deeply he affected her.

“Not bad. Let’s get your blisters taken care of.” He pulled a chair up and made a “give me” gesture with his hands. He caught her foot around the ankle and pulled her closer, her butt sliding forward. He twisted her foot and ignored her muttered, “Hey, it’s attached.”

He was gentle in his handling, almost too gentle, because the brush of his fingers along her arch sent her foot flailing.

He tightened his hold around her ankle. “Ticklish, huh?”

“Little bit,” she said through foot twitches. She ended up with bandages on both heels and several toes. “Am I all better?”

“As good as it’s going to get. The hike out won’t be comfortable for you, unfortunately.”

“I’ll survive.” She pulled her pack closer to find socks before her toes froze.

“Of that I have no doubt.”

She glanced up at him, but he had turned away to pack away the trash they’d generated. The dryness of his voice had contained something else. Something that sounded suspiciously like admiration.

“You’re not mad that I booked this trip under false pretenses and insisted we come out here in spite of the weather?”

“I was mad and ready to teach you a lesson.”

“If it’s any consolation, I learned that I’m not cut out to live off the land.”

“Not many people are. And that’s okay.”

“Do you enjoy it?” She pulled her boots on, trying to mask a wince as her tortured heels made contact with the leather. “Living off the land, I mean.”

His movements slowed and turned almost absentminded. His hands were efficient yet graceful in their work and held her mesmerized. “It suits me, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’m a loner.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

He pivoted to face her, his body language stark. “What do you mean?”

The truth emerged in spite of the warnings blaring in her brain. “You’re not so much a loner as you are lonely.”

“I’m not lonely.” His response came too fast to be anything but defensive bullshit. She utilized it often enough to recognized the stench.

“Okay, you’re not lonely.” She gave him a tight smile and turned around to finish zipping up her pack.

The tenuous bonds they’d knitted overnight cleaved in two. He doused the fire with ashes from a bucket, and smoke billowed through the room. She heaved her backpack on and retreated outside, Jack on her heels.

A deep breath of cold air cleared her lungs and mind. With the sun filtering through the trees, the woods took on a magical cast. She’d read enough fairy tales to know the stories were often darkness wrapped in beauty.

The squawk of the door had her tensing.

“Ready to hit the trail?” His voice rumbled a shiver up her spine.

The point of her reckless subterfuge had been to uncover details of Noah’s last minutes on earth. In that respect, she had failed. But she’d discovered so much more. About Bennett. And herself. For better or worse, she was leaving changed in a fundamental way. The future teemed with possibilities, and instead of burying her head under the covers, she was ready to meet them and maybe even get to know them better.

“Let’s do it.” She headed back the way they’d come. “Do you want me to navigate?”

He held out the compass. “If you want. After all, you paid to learn.”

Her hand passed over his to retrieve the compass. “I’m guessing if we headed northeast to get here, then southwest to get back to Seth’s ranger station?”

He nodded. She got her bearings and set off. They were silent until they hit the trench they’d crossed on a log the day before.

“We can follow the canal down about a quarter mile to a bridge and path if you’d rather.”

“What?”

“I said—”

“There’s a bridge and path?” Her jeans were thorn pricked from cutting through the brush.

He had the good sense to look sheepish. “Sorry about that. Like I said, I was mad yesterday and trying to get you to turn around.”

“I’m stubborn.”

“Yeah.” A slow smile spread across his face, and her anger dissipated too quickly for her comfort.

Once they reached the path, they could walk shoulder to shoulder. “You’ll call Darren when we get back?” she asked.

“Today? I don’t know.…”

“If you don’t do it today, you’ll put it off and not do it. He needs you, Bennett.” She added softly, “Promise me.”

“I … I promise.” The words sounded painful for him to say.

Several minutes passed with only the dry crunch of brush under their feet filling the silence. “You said last night you and the other ladies were considering a coffee business,” he said in a pensive way that prepared her for more questions.