Chapter 33 Bennett
BENNETT
“We are not leaving.” I folded my arms firmly across my chest. It was the best I could do to look stubborn and immovable, even though I was sitting on our sleeping bag, my foot elevated and wrapped in a compression bandage from the first aid kit.
That kit was getting a lot of use from us this season.
Charlie knelt a few feet away—our shelter was too broken for us to stand—holding the SAT phone in her hand.
Her hair was wilder than our campsite post-bear.
Her comb had been broken in the bear’s search for food, and the static electricity from the sleeping bag and wool were giving it extra heights. “Yes, we are.”
“It’s not too bad.” I rotated my ankle to show her I could. “If I stay off it a couple of days, and baby it a few more, it’ll be fine.” It wasn’t broken, and I wasn’t going to let my stupid fall ruin this experience for her.
“It needs to get looked at by a doctor.” Her expression was determined.
“I don’t need a doctor. I have you.”
“Ben—no. You need an actual doctor. Medical equipment. X-rays.”
“Weren’t you just wishing you had a cute little animal to care for?” I asked teasingly.
The honest truth was, I didn’t know how to deal with Charlie being so worried about me. I was usually the one taking care of everyone else. But I knew how to tease Charlie, so that was easy to default to.
“You’re not cute or little,” she muttered, but her finger had moved away from the call button on the SAT phone, so I felt encouraged.
“You’d turn down a big, hairy animal if they really needed you?”
“Bennnnn,” she groaned. She scooted closer to me, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m really worried about you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’m teasing you.” I reached for her free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“What if we give it a couple of days? If it gets any worse, we can go home.” I swallowed hard.
I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to give up this lightning-in-a-bottle situation with me and Charlie.
Once we left here, she’d go back to her life. The one I only had a small part in.
“But our shelter.”
“This will work for now,” I said, hoping it was true. I’d have to make it true. Charlie had called me mine, a word that had reverberated through my soul. “We can make it to the end.”
Ihadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to not work the next three days while I elevated my foot. Every time I thought about standing to help Charlie, she’d give me the stink eye and point at me like she could read my mind.
And I’d rest back on my elbows and content myself with watching her.
I could watch Charlie for the rest of my life.
She had tied her hair back with a bandana that stretched over her forehead.
Bouncy pigtails popped out of the back, bobbing every time she moved her head.
Her pants had gotten too lose, so she’d tied a paracord belt around them, and she still had to hike them up her waist every few feet.
She’d gotten the area around our shelter cleaned up by herself; had retied a clothesline; managed to catch two fish, skin, and clean two fish; and was now working on rebuilding our fallen shelter wall.
She bit her lip as she concentrated on slotting two ends together.
She raised her wrist to push back a stray piece of hair.
It was a rare, gorgeous sunny day, probably one of the last. The mossy ground squelched as I readjusted my elbows, but it was soft and surprisingly comfortable.
Some songbirds who still hadn’t flown south for the winter chirped from the trees.
“What do you think? Is it slotted tight enough?” She stood straight and surveyed her hard work, taking my breath away. I was never going to get used to the idea of Charlie Savage all grown up and beautiful and married to me.
Mine.
“Perfect,” I said, not looking at our shelter, but she grinned and went back to work on it. “I could come help!”
“Not yet. You promised you’d sit still for three whole days,” she said.
I shifted uneasily. I was used to being the person who helped everyone, not the one who needed to be helped. I needed to be useful, and not because I was trying to be essential. If I became essential through the effort, though, then whatever. Didn’t mean that was my goal. “I hate not helping you.”
She walked toward me and loomed with folded arms. I tugged her onto my lap, and she fell with a squeal, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “Your ankle.”
“Forget my ankle. It’s fine. I promise.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me, Charlie.” Lies. Charlie had the power to hurt me more than anyone.
“Why are you so restless today?”
She felt slight in my grip. She wasn’t getting enough to eat. Without me hunting, we were relying on her fishing for all our food. There was more than one way to lose a person, and I needed to get up and moving.
“I don’t like sitting around while other people are working.”
Her fingers absently played with the button on my shirt, unhooking it and sliding it back into place. “I like taking care of you.”
“I know.” I tightened my hold on her. “You’re a nurturing person.”
“I am.” Out and in, my button went through my shirt, her fingers a flurry of action. “But I particularly like taking care of you, Ben.”
“Because I’m such a handsome patient,” I teased.
“Because you always take care of everyone else, but it doesn’t always have to be one-sided.” She pushed some of the wild hair back from my eyes. “I need you to know that.”
I gave her a half-smile and drew a lazy circle on her arm with my finger, gratified when she visibly swallowed.
“And I need to know it too,” she continued. “I can carry my weight.”
I gripped her arm, hating that she worried about that. She didn’t see herself the way everyone else did. “Charlie. You’re one of the most selfless people I know.”
She huffed out a skeptical laugh and ran a hand over her eyes. “I’m trying to be.”
“You’re all that’s good in this world.” I met her gaze, hoping she could read in them everything I was feeling. “And all that I want.”
Her breathing hitched, and her eyes darted back and forth between mine.
I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to make sure she knew how she felt about me. That she realized I wasn’t good enough for her but wanted to be with me anyway. Most of all, though, I wanted that kiss we’d almost had three days ago. The kiss I couldn’t stop thinking about.
And probably never would.