12. Lana
Lana
The ache in my hips, not the chill on my nose, woke me the next morning. Each time I woke to stoke the fire, the thought of lying back down on the hard ground held less and less appeal. It was finally late enough—or early enough, depending on how you looked at it—to get up and stay up.
Pushing my sleeping bag away from my face, I fumbled with the zipper. As I moved the fabric away, my gaze landed on Toren. Even inside our little alcove, there was enough light coming in from the fire and the sun that was already up to see his face.
He looked comfortable, unlike when he went to sleep last night and pain pinched his features. If he could sleep relaxed, that reassured me his injuries were less severe than we originally thought.
My gaze traced the lines of his face. How anyone could be so devastatingly handsome, I didn’t know. I still couldn’t believe I’d convinced him to come out here. Even without his massive size, his looks alone were intimidating.
Dark eyebrows sliced over eyes—when they were open—the color of coal, except shiny. I couldn’t call them obsidian, because there weren’t completely black, but instead variations of dark brown and a deep rust color. I’d seen them up close and personal yesterday, and they’d been mesmerizing.
My gaze traveled down his face. A short, thick, beard obscured his jawline, but the neat trim made it easy to see the sharp angles. They matched the sharpness of his cheekbones.
Topping it all off was the thick, wavy, raven-colored hair that he often kept tied back. Right now, though, it was loose, falling around his forehead in heavy locks.
That fine hum from last night coursed through my body again.
Down, girl.
I rolled my eyes and sat up, pushing the sleeping bag down. Lusting after my guide, handsome or not, wouldn’t help get us out of here. I needed to keep my wits about me and not be distracted. My hormones could wait until we were back in town.
Toren stirred as I slid out of my bag and scooted toward the door. I glanced back to see those dark eyes flutter open.
“I’m going to go stoke the fire again, get some more firewood, and use the restroom. Do you need any more painkillers while I’m up?”
He yawned. “I’m okay for now. I’ll probably stay here until you get back. We can’t go anywhere, I’m sure, so there’s no rush.”
“Okay.” I tugged my boots on. He might not have an urgency to get out of his sleeping bag, but my aching hips and my bladder were pushing me out the tent flap a moment later.
I cast a quick look at the fire as I exited the tent. It crackled, and the coals still glowed red hot, but the flames were gone. My bladder insisted I relieve it first, so I bypassed the fire and, with a glance at the firewood pile to see where we stood, stepped out of the small cave.
“Oh, wow.” A blanket of white covered the forest floor. What I could see of it, anyway, through the heavy flakes falling through the tree canopy. Sometime during the night, the rain had turned to snow. A lot of it.
Turning in the opposite direction I went yesterday, I ducked behind a clump of young trees and did my business as fast as possible. Freezing air on a warm tush was not fun.
With that out of the way, I set about finding firewood.
There was plenty, but the challenge now was to find some that was dry.
I gathered an armload that was wet and carried it back to camp, arranging it around the fire to dry out, then stoked the coals, adding the few remaining dry logs we had before heading back out.
Three more times, I carried wet wood back to camp. When I went back out the next time, I wandered further afield. We desperately needed dry wood. The wet stuff would just smoke, and I was afraid the fire would die before the wet stuff dried out well enough to burn.
After fifteen minutes of walking and little in the way to show for it, I was about to give up when, through the trees, I saw a pile of thin trees all stacked on top of each other that looked like they’d come down in a windstorm.
High stepping through the snow, I hurried over. “Oh, please be sheltering some dry wood.”
But it wasn’t just wood I found when I reached the pile of trees.
Someone had used it as a camp.
I wandered closer, taking in the makeshift shelter. The trees had fallen naturally, but someone had layered pine boughs and leaves over the top, creating a roof.
“Oh, gross.” My nose wrinkled as I got a good look inside. A pile of food wrappers, plastic water bottles, and beer cans sat in the corner near the entrance. “Why can’t people pack out what they bring in?” Disgusted, I turned away from the sight.
The rest of the space was mostly empty. Not that there was much space in here, anyway. What was left, however, made me giddy.
Dry firewood.
Whoever made this shelter also made a sleeping platform.
I walked over to it and poked through it to see what it was made of.
The top was pine boughs, which made great kindling, but burned quickly. Under those, though, were two long poles covered by a bunch of shorter lengths of wood. “Jackpot,” I said quietly.
Removing the pine boughs, I gathered as many of the short lengths of wood into my arms as I could carry. I should have brought the wood sling.
Making my way back to camp, I did my best to watch where I put my feet. Falling with an armload of logs would be disastrous.
With a couple of near slips, I made it back to the alcove and dumped my load onto the ground, then ducked into the tent.
Toren peeked out of his sleeping bag. “You were gone a while.”
“I was gathering firewood. I’m still not done. I need the sling.”
He sat up and reached into the pile of our things in the corner near his head. “Did you find a stash?”
“Yeah. Some old camp not far from here. Someone built a small lean-to from a bunch of fallen trees, and they made themselves a sleeping platform. I’m dismantling it. Every other piece of wood I’ve found has been wet, thanks to this storm.”
I took the canvas sling he held out. “I’ll be back.”
“Be careful.”
“I am.” I sent a quick glance his way as I climbed out of the tent.
“I’ll get some breakfast going for us.”
My stomach rumbled at the mention of food, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet. “Sounds good. If you’ve got pancakes and scrambled eggs on the menu, I’ll take that.” I flashed a grin.
A dimple popped out in his cheek as he smiled back. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Phew. Had that dimple always been there?
Nodding, I backed away from the tent entrance and zipped it up.
Well, now I was warm and it had nothing to do with gathering firewood.
Focus, Lana. Firewood. Gather firewood.
Right.
Shoving away the memory of Toren’s crooked, dimpled smile, I scurried back out into the snow, retracing my footsteps to the lean-to. Thankfully, the snow was deep enough the falling snow didn’t fill in my prints, and I was able to easily find it again.
When I reached the little shelter this time, I spread the sling out on the ground and carefully laid the remainder of the platform logs into it.
I’d make a third trip and grab the long poles too.
Toren probably had an axe tucked away in that Santa bag of his, and there was enough wood in those two poles to last for hours.
Sling loaded, I scooped up the handles and left the lean-to, heading back to the alcove. When I reached our campsite, Toren was up, leaning on one of his walking sticks as he stared down at the pot on the fire.
The scent of reconstituted meat hit my nostrils. “What are you making?” I dropped the sling near the rest of the firewood and sank to my knees to unload it.
“Sausage and eggs. I don’t have pancakes, but I have some biscuit mix, so we’ll have that too.”
My mouth watered. I picked up my stacking pace. “I’ll hurry back, then.”
“There’s more?”
“Just a little. Two long poles. You have an axe, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome.” I got to my feet, leaving the sling next to the wood pile. “I’ll be right back.”
This time, my pace back to the lean-to was a little quicker. I wanted to eat that food while it was still hot.
When I reached the lean-to this time, I did a quick circle around it, looking for anything else we could use.
The snow obscured the ground, but there were a few lumps that might be interesting, so I kicked at a few.
Most were just fallen branches and rocks, but I did find a tangle of rope that wasn’t in bad shape.
I also found the firepit.
Normally, that wouldn’t mean much, especially when I knew I was at an old campsite, but this one had very little snow on it. That told me it was probably still smoldering when the rain and snow started. It melted the snow as it fell.
Goosebumps rose on my arms and the hair lifted on the back of my neck.
I stilled, looking deeper into the woods.
Was someone out there, watching me dismantle their camp? Maybe following me back to mine?
That last thought set my feet in motion. I didn’t want to get caught out here alone.
Logic told me if someone wanted me dead or to capture me, they’d have done it already, but my fight or flight instinct didn’t listen to logic.
With a pole under each arm and the length of rope settled over my shoulder, I hiked back to camp.