Reaching For Normal Page 10

  Her eyes narrowed and her whole body stiffened, indicating he’d said the wrong thing. “Well, that’s too bad. My vote is to start walking.”

  One-handed, she rinsed her cup with some snow, then shoved it back into her pack along with everything she could reach. When she tried to shove to her feet, he gave up and helped her.

  She struggled to stand on her own but determination shone in her eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  Her glare nearly sizzled off his eyelashes.

  “Okay. You’re sure. Come on.”

  #positivitysucks

  Myla decided she was a first-class idiot. Sawyer had offered her the easy way out. A way to keep her dignity. No begging, no whining, no complaining. Here you go. Let's rest.

  But no. Not Myla Esperanza. She was a twit. Had to take the hard way and prove herself. Not that she was even sure who she was proving what to anymore.

  Too late to change her mind. She was committed to walking her ass into the ground. They'd been walking for ages and he hadn't even looked back to check on her. Which should have made her happy. It was nice to be viewed as independent and capable. Some of the time.

  Right now, she kind of wanted to have someone else take the reins and make the decisions. All she had to do was ask him to stop. He would. Instantly.

  She couldn't do it. Years of positive self-talk worked against her and her mouth wouldn't cooperate.

  For a while there, she’d thought Sawyer was softening toward her, his eyes warming with humor. She’d even seen that mouth twitch a time or two.

  But, something had changed since she’d fallen in the stream. Something that had nothing to do with her hand. Sawyer’s voice was tight and his body stiffened when he looked at her. He’d probably realized what a liability she truly was. She’d bet he was counting down the minutes until he could get rid of her.

  If they got back to Bloo Moose, she’d cancel the rest of her lessons.

  When not if.

  Trusting Sawyer and his skills was easy. It was herself she worried about. There was an enormous possibility her inexperience and ineptitude could get them both killed.

  Eventually, Myla lost her train of thought and her focus narrowed to Sawyer. More specifically, Sawyer's feet, which moved ahead of her at a relentless pace.

  When the stream curved, her snowshoe slipped and her leg whipped out to the side. The awkward angle had her struggling for balance but before she could fall, Sawyer’s hands gripped her arms and hauled her upright.

  She lifted her gaze to smile her thanks at him but stopped short at the intensity in his eyes. The partial moon behind him left most of his face in shadows but left her own exposed. She dug deep and lifted her chin, pulling up every last dredge of self-respect.

  One of Sawyer’s hands lifted and caressed her jaw. A shudder ran through her but she resisted leaning in.

  Sawyer turned and surveyed the area, then pointed to another cluster of trees. “In here.”

  Hope and dismay warred within. They were going to stop. Best news ever. Except that it meant they were stopping because she was too weak.

  Knowing rest was only steps away seemed to sap Myla’s remaining strength and by the time she followed Sawyer’s trail into the trees, the only thing her brain could focus on was planting herself face down, snow or no snow.

  When she stumbled and nearly fell into a tree, he steadied her and didn’t let go until they stood in the middle of the tiny clearing.

  “Stay here. I’ll be back.” The loss of warmth from his hands left her bereft.

  Myla shook herself physically to stave off the exhaustion. She wasn’t dead. Wasn’t dying. She was annoying and useless. Time to change it up. She’d be able to milk a bunch of blog posts out of this adventure. Maybe even a few articles for her magazines. Survival in the bush being at the top of the list. Time to do something to help to ensure that survival instead of waiting for Sawyer to do it all.

  "Don't yell, it's me."

  Contrary to the order, she let out a little squeal but almost immediately stopped it. Sawyer broke through the branches with an armload of wood. "You okay?"

  She nodded. "Are we staying here?"

  He dropped the branches. “Obviously.” Then he disappeared through the trees.

  Myla's knees wavered but she managed to stay upright. She'd watched him before. Even with one arm trapped beneath her jacket, there had to be something she could do. Sliding off her pack, she pulled the shiny blanket and dropped it on the ground, spread it out with her foot.

  She kicked the pile of wood closer to the middle of the clearing, then looked down at the blanket. Sitting gracefully was way beyond her, so she dropped to the blanket in a heap, glad he wasn't there to see her collapse.

  In the first clearing, Sawyer had trampled the ground for the fire but she wasn’t up to that, so she took off her snowshoes and used one to flatten a circle. Her other hand would have been more useful but she was afraid to look at it. She couldn’t tell where the cold from the fall stopped and regular chill took over, didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  A huge yawn had her eyes watering, so, to keep herself awake, she rummaged in the pack, looking for something useful to do. Her cup was soon packed with snow and resting by the wannabe fire pit.

  She unzipped her camera out of her pocket and took a photo of her efforts. Clumsy Girl Does Survival.

  Sawyer dropped another armload of wood and green branches, checked her out with that piercing intensity of his and disappeared through the trees again. More wood. More branches. After two more trips, he knelt down and brought more wood to her flattened circle. He shot her a sharp grin. "Learn fast, don't you, City Girl?"

  “Obviously.” Echoing his response made her smile. He held her gaze for several heartbeats before turning his attention to the wood. A small blaze soon crackled in the night and Myla fought the urge to wrap herself around it.

  Sawyer grabbed his own cup and handed it to her then pulled food out of his pack as well. He pulled out his shiny blanket and reached to tuck it around her shoulders. Myla tried to shrug it off. “You need that one. I’m not taking both.”

  He tightened the blanket and stood. “I’m heading back out. Keep it for now.”

  Panic surged through her. “You said we were stopping. We. That means both of us.”

  Sawyer’s snort was full of too many emotions for her to decipher. “It does. And I’m not leaving you.” He squatted down until they were face to face.

  She didn’t want to kiss him. Not at all. She didn’t want to pull him forward so he’d wrap her in his arms either.

  “I’m not leaving.” His eyes held hers. The darkness might be swallowing her vision but she didn’t need light to feel his intensity. “I’m going to scout around for a bit. I’ll be back.”

  His voice soothed her fears maybe despite the frustration she could hear maybe because of it. She might be a total newbie to this whole winter thing and she didn’t have much in the way of survival skills but she could do the bravery thing. Or she could at least fake it.

  Swallowing her panic, Myla maintained eye contact. “Okay.”

  “First, we need to...” Sawyer’s hands slipped beneath the blanket and unzipped the jacket she wore. Myla’s mind raced in dozens of steamy directions. She could think of lots of things she wanted to do first. And second. And third.

  Cold air wiggled through the openings and reached her hand. The hand she’d dumped in the creek. The hand Sawyer was unzipping her jacket to check. If her brain hadn’t instantly zoomed to terrified, she’d have laughed. Damn exhaustion was messing with her brain.

  Oblivious to her crazy thoughts, Sawyer ran his fingers over her hand and arm. The feather-light touches from the callused hands should have distracted her but the fear had roared back. Thinking sexy thoughts about her companion had helped for a while but now her brain was completely focused on the worst-case scenarios running through it.

  After several endless minutes, Sawyer squeez
ed her hand. “You’re good.”

  Breathing shallowly, she peeked down to ensure he hadn't lied or exaggerated. In the soft glow of the firelight, her skin appeared normal. Not the blackened, shriveled flesh she'd been imagining. Only one ugly limb. And one was enough for any girl. Pulling off normal was harder than it appeared.

  "No damage that I can see, although we'll make sure you're checked out when we get back. Nick's a former big-city hotshot doctor, so you'll be in good hands."

  "I think I'm in pretty good hands already." Oops. That was out loud. And judging by the flash in his eyes, full of innuendo she hadn’t intended.

  Sawyer turned his attention back to his pack and pulled out her jacket. She'd forgotten he'd stuffed it inside, forgotten she was wearing his jacket while he went unprotected. God, she was so incredibly selfish.

  And dumb. He’d done nothing but try to protect her. Take care of her. Most of those kisses hadn’t been about passion. Encouragement most likely. She’d forgotten people exchanged kisses for other reasons. She didn’t know any more about kissing than she did about hugs.

  It was time to give the poor guy a break. Time to stop taking advantage of his morality and basic goodness. Time to stop thinking lustful thoughts.

  Or at least do a better job hiding them.

  Save the emotions for her writing. Savor them. Treasure them.

  Stop being such a sappy wimp and do something proactive. While he strung up some kind of fancy rigging with the rope he had in his pack, she slipped her other arm out of the sleeve. When he finished with the rope, he laid her jacket on top of it, high enough above the fire so it wouldn't burn but low enough to help it dry out.

  He squatted down beside her and frowned. "Are you feverish?" His hand reached out and rested on her forehead. More lust shot through her but she managed not to lean in and kiss him.

  “I’m fine.” She shrugged out of the coat, pushing his hand away when he tried to stop her. “Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with me other than some stupidity. You haven't had a jacket on in hours. It's your turn. No arguing. I'm not putting it back on."

  His eyes searched hers with that intensity that made her stomach quiver. She tried to keep it out of her eyes. "I've got double your body mass to keep me warm." And double the heat factor. "I'm still good from our stroll." Okay, triple the heat factor. "You need to stay warm, Myla."

  "I'm fine." At least her voice remained steady, if a little pissy.

  Shoving to his feet, he jammed on the jacket and muttered things she didn't work too hard to hear. Then he yanked the blanket around her. Not too gently. She clamped her lips together to keep in the smile.

  "You think you can manage to keep your stubborn ass warm while I check out the area?”

  That wiped away her smile. "We're not safe?" Damn that wobble in her voice. She'd been on her own forever. Being alone in the woods at night was new but no big deal. Nothing she couldn't handle.

  "That's what I'm going to make sure of. To use your favorite words, you'll be fine. I want you to keep the fire going if you can but don't load it up too high. We don't want anyone spotting it and we don't want it smoking."

  Myla snapped a salute before Sawyer left. How hard could it be?

  Loneliness crept in as the trees resettled behind Sawyer. The man was under her skin. Sliding toward her heart.

  Myla watched the branches settle with a sigh. He didn't like her. She'd be leaving in a week. A tiny voice tried to tell her she could stay in one place longer than a few weeks but the thought sent her zooming in the direction of a panic attack.

  Nope. Years and years of switching foster homes and hospitals and group homes were too ingrained. She wasn't hearth and home material. Her few attempts at staying had proven that. Moving meant staying safe. Staying ahead of the hurt that was sure to come. Because that's what always had happened, what always would happen.

  Myla drew in a deep calming breath. And then another one.

  Good, she was all good.

  This would be more material for her blog and her writing. That's what she wanted. And that's what she was getting. Nothing more.

  Clumsy Girl Believes Her Own Lies.

  SAWYER worked his way back to where he’d left Myla. He hadn't learned a damn thing and he was as frustrated as hell. Especially with a certain woman with gorgeous eyes and a heart badly damaged by something. The fact that he wanted to figure out what that something was and then fix it, was killing him. He didn't do this.

  Couldn't do this. Not again. Not with another damn reporter.

  The woman was a liar. She had to be writing about him. Taking lessons when she only wanted information. Information she’d twist and turn into a story that would make her a name regardless of who she hurt. Regardless of the truth.

  Strangely, Myla wasn't trying to worm her way into his heart. In fact, if he was reading her right, she was doing her damnedest to do the exact opposite. But she was worming right in despite both their efforts. And, like a moldy apple, his heart was letting her crawl on in.

  He needed to be smarter. Keep her safe. Keep them both safe, then get the hell away from her because she was anything but safe. Hell, in his care, she'd ended up under gunfire and stuck in the woods with a crazy man on the loose. As her protector, Sawyer's record was complete shit. He needed to pick up his game and ensure nothing happened to her. Well, nothing more. Then he could walk away with a clear conscience.

  With all of his training, he couldn’t find the asshole shooting at them. An asshole he suspected didn’t have much experience as a hunter. He had to do better.

  Sawyer stopped beside a stand of maples and surveyed the woods around him. As he'd been doing every fifteen minutes since he'd left.

  Nothing. Again.

  An owl hooted nearby, making him grimace. Who, indeed?

  Sawyer followed the stream back to the makeshift shelter, pleased when he couldn't see the smoke or light. Myla had followed instructions. Or she’d let the fire go out.

  The closer he got, the faster he moved, until he was nearly at a jog. There were so many what-ifs, so many things that could have gone wrong leaving her alone in the circle of trees. Telling himself he was ridiculous didn't help because the danger was real and he wasn’t the paranoid idiot he’d thought. At least not about this.

  At the edge of the stream, he picked up the branches he'd left for the purpose and walked backward, erasing all trace of his passing with the greenery. The sporadic snowfall was doing its best to help him out but he wasn’t taking any more chances. He held the gun at the ready as he crouched and pushed through the trees.

  Spotting Myla curled in a ball, wrapped in a solar blanket, and covered with a layer of snow made him glad she had her eyes closed. No way did he want her seeing him grinning in relief that she was okay. He holstered his gun and checked the fire. Low but not out.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. ”Hey. Everything okay out there?" Light from the fire sparked in her eyes, making her appear ethereal. Whoa. When had a word like that worked its way into his vocabulary?

  "All good. No signs of our friend out there."

  She nodded and tried to push to a sitting position but he waved her back down. "Stay there. I need to check your jacket." The sleeve wasn't dry but it was heading in the right direction. Which meant that she couldn't wear it for warmth during the night. At least he had the solars for her.

  "Did you eat?"

  She shrugged and he checked the evidence in front of him. Two cups full of water. The packs he'd left still in a pile with the trail mix and dried fruit.

  "You're going to be warmer with food inside you. You've got to eat." As he spoke, he squatted down and mixed up some of the soups into the water.

  When he helped ease her into a sitting position, she sighed and let him do more of the work than he'd expected. Not a good sign. He should have forced her to eat before leaving. Sitting beside her on the blanket, he picked up the first bowl and filled a spoon. "Open up."

  That brought a bit more l
ife to her expression. "I can feed myself." The snotty tone was a good sign and shouldn’t have made him smile.

  "I bet you can but you need to keep in the warmth and that means keeping the hands in the blanket, so you're going to let me feed you."

  She shook her head but there wasn't a lot of force behind it and he knew he'd won.

  "You'll feel better soon but this is important." When she opened her mouth to protest, he spooned in the first bite. Her eyes widened but she was forced to swallow or spit it out.

  As he fed her another spoonful, Sawyer wondered if he'd ever done anything as intimate with a woman. The thought was disconcerting enough for him to search for a distraction. “When you eat, your body's metabolism starts working." Another bite. "If you don't eat, that metabolism slows down." And another. "If it gets too low, it's difficult to get it climbing again." Facts. Stick with facts. He kept spooning in the food, filling up the empty space with boring-as-hell information.

  As she ate, more life came into Myla's eyes but by the time she finished the soup, her frown had deepened.

  “I’m good. Now it’s your turn."

  Her soft words had his mind spinning all kinds of erotic scenarios in the two seconds it took for him to realize she wanted him to eat. She wasn't planning on feeding him. Or fulfilling any of those scenarios. He ate a bowl of the soup and then fed them both crackers and nuts.

  And tried to remember she was using him.

  "It's beautiful out here. I only thought of winter as cold. Maybe a little scary. It's kind of haunting at night but not in a frightening way." Her lips twisted in a smile. "At least, it wouldn't be if we weren't out here with a crazy man.”

  "What about the wolves? You weren't too sure of them a couple of days ago."

  Beneath the blanket, she shrugged. "I was getting my information from Little Red and her pig buddies. Once I did some research and spoke with a local expert, I changed my mind."

  Simple as that. Research. Learn. Change your mind. Nice.

  As they ate, she asked more questions about the wolf reintroduction program and his part in it. "I'm not an official participant. Trying to do my part to make sure it all works, that's all."