Chapter 5 #2
“How did it find us? Do you think it tracked us? Are the rebels on our heels?” Amanda asked, not able to keep the panic from her voice.
In response, Nash wiggled his way out from between the rocks. To her surprise, even though she immediately felt cooler, Amanda also felt…adrift.
The dog had quickly scurried backward when Nash moved, out of reach. But it didn’t run off. Amanda scooted out of the shelter of the rocks, arching her back to stretch her achy muscles. She was getting used to sleeping on the hard ground, but that didn’t mean she liked it.
“What’s it doing? Do we need to get out of here?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I think we’re okay. From what I saw, no one paid any attention to the little guy. I highly doubt they trained it to track people. Hey, boy, you hungry? You look hungry,” Nash crooned.
Amanda swore her lady parts twitched in her pants. Listening to this skilled pilot talk baby talk to the pathetic-looking dog was sweet.
Nash glanced at her. “When we stop again, I’m going to set up some traps, see if we can’t get some fresh meat. But I’d be more comfortable setting a fire to cook meat once we put more distance between us and that camp.”
The thought of fresh meat made Amanda’s mouth water with anticipation. She wasn’t a huge meat eater, but right now, her body was craving fat and protein. She nodded in agreement.
“For now, it’s going to be a breakfast of canned…whatever. And water.”
Nash went around the rocks, making the dog back up a little more at his movements, and came back holding two cans full of rainwater.
It was a little silly to get so excited about something as boring as water, especially when it was falling steadily from the sky, but seeing him holding those cans as if they were delicate glasses made Amanda feel more human than when she’d had to slurp water out of her hands back at the rebel camp.
Looking inside her can, she saw the water looked clear and fresh, unlike the stuff that had been collected by the rebels. They’d had a system for catching water, but it was always full of dirt and leaves. And they didn’t allow her or the children to use the cans as cups.
Today’s breakfast was olives for her and more beans for Nash. They were saving the canned chicken and spam for a time when their bodies really needed the nutrients.
The dog didn’t move from where it had lain down when they began to eat. But its eyes followed every movement their hands made.
Amanda couldn’t stand it any longer. She leaned forward and held out an olive. “You want some, boy?”
The dog licked its chops but didn’t make any kind of move to take the food from her.
“He was probably abused by the rebels,” Nash said softly.
“Yeah,” Amanda agreed. “You want to try?”
“Sure.” But the second Nash knelt next to her and held out his hand, the dog sat up and backed away. “Shoot, it’s more scared of me than you. Probably because I’m a guy. You keep trying.” With that, Nash backed up toward the rocks where they’d spent the night.
“It’s okay, he won’t hurt you,” Amanda said softly to the dog.
To her relief, it lay back down again instead of running off into the trees.
“I know you want this olive. It doesn’t taste that great, but when you’re hungry it doesn’t really matter, does it?
Watch, I’ll eat, then it’ll be your turn. Ummmm, yummy. Here…now you take one.”
The dog wanted the food. That was clear as day. But it was too scared to come any closer. So Amanda took a chance and gently lobbed an olive in his direction.
It had barely bounced a foot in front of his face when he moved. Snatching it up and backing up again all in one motion.
“There you go,” Amanda said with a small laugh. “Good, right? Here, I’ll eat one, then it’s your turn again.” She ate another olive, then lobbed another at the dog. Once again, he gobbled it up as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Then to her amazement, the dog scooted forward on its belly, closer to her.
“That’s right. Come on. I’m not going to hurt you. We can share the rest of this can. Because honestly? Olives taste horrible. But not to you, huh?” She kept up the one-sided conversation, all the time aware that Nash was behind her, watching and listening.
Amanda was a sucker for kids and animals.
Especially strays. She supposed she might be considered a stray by some people.
She had no family and was kind of wandering aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do with her life.
The kids at the school and orphanage were also like strays.
Doing their best to survive in this big ol’ unfair world.
“Here, if you don’t like the olives, take my beans. Let the dog have the rest of your breakfast.”
Amanda turned her head to see Nash holding out his half-eaten can of beans. “You should eat that,” she told him. “You need the calories.”
“I’ll be fine. We’ll eat better tonight, once I can hunt. If you don’t like the olives, you shouldn’t eat them, and we can’t let them go to waste. The dog can have them, and you can have the beans. I’m full anyway.”
He was full of shit, but Amanda felt like crying over both his kindness and his lie about being full.
She seriously doubted he wasn’t at least a little hungry.
She reached out and took the can from him, her fingers brushing against Nash’s in the process.
Their gazes met, and time seemed to freeze for a moment.
Something intense passed between them, but it was over as soon as it began.
“Look,” Nash whispered, nodding toward something over her shoulder.
Turning her head, Amanda barely stopped a surprised gasp from leaving her mouth. The dog had crept forward again while she was talking to Nash, and was now lying right in front of her. Within touching distance.
“Hey, boy. You like those olives, huh? Well, Nash was kind enough to say you could finish them.” Amanda slowly picked up the can of olives and poured a few on the ground in front of the dog.
He ate them just as quickly as he had the others, then looked up at her with a hopeful expression on his face.
She chuckled. “All right, give me a second.” She alternated between eating the beans Nash had so unselfishly offered, and tossing the dog an olive. She didn’t think she should give him the entire rest of the can at once, for fear it would upset his tummy.
All too soon, both the beans and the olives were gone.
The dog looked at her with hopeful eyes, and she felt horrible that she had nothing else to give him. “I’m sorry, but that’s all there is. We ate everything.”
To her total shock, the dog wiggled closer and began to lick the juice off her fingers. It would’ve been sweet if it wasn’t so sad. If the dog wasn’t so desperate for calories he was willing to lick the smallest bit of leftover juice from her hand.
Making a split-second decision, Amanda poured some of the water Nash had caught the night before into the olive can, twirling it to mix the water with the remaining olive juice. Then she tilted the can so the dog’s tongue could reach the liquid. “How about some olive-flavored water?” she asked.
Before she finished her sentence, the dog stood and stuck his muzzle into the can, eagerly lapping at the water.
Turning, Amanda smiled at Nash. “He’s drinking,” she whispered ecstatically.
“I see that,” Nash responded with a small grin.
“Good boy,” she told the dog.
After he’d finished the water, he sat back on his haunches and stared at her.
“Well, that’s really all we can offer,” she told him sadly. “And we need to be on our way. Good luck, boy. Stay safe out there.”
As if he could understand, the dog bobbed his head, then turned and ran off into the trees.
Amanda stared after him for a long moment before taking a deep breath. “Right. I need to pee, then I guess it’s time for our nature hike to start, huh?”
She’d stood as she was talking, and when she turned, saw that Nash was also standing. And staring at her with a look she couldn’t interpret.
“What?” she asked, running a hand over her head a little self-consciously. She knew she was a mess. Thankfully, she had short hair so it wasn’t as much of a bird’s nest as it might’ve been. But she was still grubby and stinky, and soaking wet—again—from sitting in the light rain.
“You’re not what I expected,” Nash said after a moment. “And before you ask, I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe more along the lines of someone scared. Weaker. More out of your element.”
Amanda couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I’m terrified, actually. And I’m as out of my element as I can be. But I’ve learned that if I fake it, I can usually convince those around me, mostly my students—and even myself—that I know what I’m doing.”
“Well, you’re doing a good job of it. I like your positive attitude. And most people wouldn’t give some of their precious food to a stray dog if they were in your situation.”
Amanda shrugged. “He needed it more than I did. A few olives isn’t going to make much of a difference to me, but it could mean the world to that dog.
Give him just enough energy to get back to wherever he belongs.
To outrun something bigger and stronger that wants to eat him.
I don’t know. I just believe in good deeds coming back tenfold.
Besides, did you see his eyes? How in the world could I resist? ”
“Why do you think I gave you my beans?” Nash asked, smiling. “And I swear if that dog could talk and asked me to open all the cans and let him eat them all, I would’ve agreed without hesitation.”
Amanda grinned. She liked this man. True, she hadn’t known him long and it was possible he was very different when he wasn’t in a crisis situation. But she couldn’t deny she was attracted to the man he was right now.
Though, this wasn’t the time or place to have any kind of feelings toward Nash. He was doing a job—a job he wouldn’t even have to be doing if it wasn’t for her rash decision to go look for James instead of making sure he was really missing.
She couldn’t change the past. She’d learned that over the years. All she could do was keep going forward. One step at a time…even if each step was extremely painful and lonely.
Taking a deep breath, she watched as Nash shrugged on the backpack with their meager supplies. Then she reached out and grabbed hold of a strap before they once again started their trek through the jungle.