Chapter Eight
Whit neared the edge of the tree line and stumbled over what felt like a root.
She fought for balance, careful to keep her knife outstretched and away from her body.
She managed to fall against the rough bark of a tree where she stilled for a moment, to regain her breath and bearings, thinking how lucky she was she didn’t cut herself with her blade.
Running off half-crazed into the night with a sharp knife in her hand probably hadn’t been the wisest of moves, but then again she’d been frightened, and worse, Abby had been frightened.
Whit realized then that she’d do anything to protect her, even chase a madman or a wild creature off in the dark, with little regard to her own safety.
She listened keenly for any more sounds of whatever had been sneaking around their camp.
She heard nothing, only silence, so she knelt and sheathed the blade and then slowly crept back toward camp and the trickling of the creek.
Whatever she’d been pursuing had retreated quickly, too quickly for her on her blind trek after it, so she’d given up and made her way back, following the path of crushed brush she’d crashed through.
The skin on her hands stung from scratches and her palms were sore from all the woodworking she’d done with dry bark.
But other than that, her belly was full and she had the fire and a shelter to keep her warm at night, so she couldn’t complain.
Now if only they could find their way to help.
She spotted an orange flicker ahead and emerged from the woods. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she saw Abby sitting ramrod straight next to the dwindling fire, a look of complete terror and anguish on her face.
She immediately stood when she saw Whit. “Oh, thank God!” She hurried to her, limping along, and slammed into Whit with a fierce embrace. “I was so worried. So scared.”
Whit froze, her arms at her side, stunned at the sudden show of affection. Abby drew away and held her face. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“Who?” Whit gently gripped Abby’s hands and lowered them. The feel of her skin on her own was too much, and she had to remain in control. She couldn’t allow her body to speak for her. She needed her mind leading the way right now, not her involuntary reactions to a beautiful stranger.
“The creep,” Abby said. “Whoever was here.”
Whit released her incredibly soft hands and sidestepped her to walk back to the fire. Abby followed.
“I’m not sure what it was,” Whit said, choosing a stick to stoke the fire. “It could’ve been anything.” She spoke with conviction, but a part of her wondered if she was right. While she hadn’t seen what she’d been chasing, it did sound rather big and powerful the way it clawed through the brush.
“You mean it wasn’t the creep?” Abby stood near her, face ashen, eyes wide. She was twisting her fingers like a nervous schoolgirl awaiting punishment.
“Probably not.” What was the use in scaring her? She tossed more wood onto the flames and sank down onto the log.
Abby seemed to melt with relief and she sat next to her. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
Whit savored the heat and examined her hands in the firelight.
She thought about the emergency bag of Junior’s and wondered why it didn’t have a light source in it.
Then she remembered she had her phone. She felt for it in her back pocket and slid it out.
She knew she had no service, that was a given, but she’d totally forgotten about the flashlight feature.
She powered it on and turned on the light. “Well, what do you know.”
“I wish I had mine,” Abby said. “But it fell in the car just before the crash.”
“This won’t last long with my low battery, but it’ll be nice to have if we need it again sometime soon.”
Abby rubbed her palms on her jeans as if she were anxious. “Can I maybe use it now? I need to pee.”
Whit passed her the phone and waited to see if she’d ask her to go with her. She had the evening before, too afraid to go on her own. Whit had stood watch with her back to her, giving her some privacy at least.
But Abby didn’t ask this time. She just walked away slowly, shining the light ahead of her into the tree line where she promptly disappeared. A few short minutes later, she reappeared, flashlight off and returned the phone to Whit.
“Thanks.”
Whit tucked the phone back into her pocket.
Abby headed for the shelter. “I’m going back to bed.”
“I’ll stay up for a bit. See to the fire.”
Abby crawled into the small lodging and settled in.
Whit stared after her, lost in the pressing heat of the flames.
She was still too wound up from her excursion to turn in.
She had too much to consider, too many decisions to make.
The first being whether or not they stayed there at the site another day.
They could use the rest, and some more fish.
She could build a makeshift smoker and smoke whatever extra they caught and take it with them on their continued journey.
That all sounded well and good, but what about the “creep” as Abby called him?
Man or beast, if that was what had been snooping around tonight, then they should definitely move on.
But then again, they hadn’t shaken him today, so who was to say they’d shake him if they left again?
She kicked a burning log. It broke into chunks of glowing embers and created more heat.
She closed her eyes as it massaged her face.
They were better off staying another day.
Chances were, she couldn’t get them to help any sooner if they left tomorrow and they really needed a food source for their trek out.
Decision made, she opened her eyes and moved to settle down across the fire.
She hugged her knees to her chest and looked up at the stars and the neon glow of the northern lights.
Any other time she’d be reveling at the beautiful night, thinking how lucky she was to live in such a magical place.
But tonight, it was difficult to do. She had responsibilities to think about.
Namely, the woman sleeping in the shelter behind her.
And also, the woman she had waiting for her at home.
* * *
Whit awoke some time later and blinked against the pale light of dawn.
She was curled on her side, next to the fire, which was nearly burned out.
Slim tendrils of smoke snaked their way into the cold morning air as she rose and brushed herself off.
The woods were quiet, save for a bird or two just beginning to make their morning calls.
She glanced back at the shelter, saw Abby still fast asleep, huddled against the chill of the dawn, and plucked more wood to toss onto the fire.
She poked at the remaining embers until a flame caught the new wood and began to feed.
Then she settled back down onto the log and rubbed her eyes.
From the look of the camp, it didn’t seem that anything was missing or out of place. The pot remained where she’d left it, and she didn’t see any footprints nearby. She sighed, thankful for small favors. Maybe last night’s visitor had been just a curious animal.
Movement came from the shelter and Abby crawled out, her hair a tangle of pine needles.
“Morning,” she croaked, palming her cheek.
She stretched like an awakening feline, all yawns and nimble grace.
Whit couldn’t help but stare, moved by her beauty but more amused by her morning appearance and demeanor.
“Morning. How did you sleep?”
“Hard.” She toyed with the pine needles in her locks and grimaced as she tried to maneuver them out.
Then, suddenly, she turned and limped away, presumably to go relieve herself.
Whit decided to do the same and squatted behind a bush across from the camp.
When she finished, she returned to the fire and retrieved her spear.
It was time to catch some breakfast if she could.
She waited a moment for Abby to return. “I’m going to fish.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“It’s up to you.”
“I thought I’d go get some more mushrooms.”
Whit nodded. “That sounds great. We can eat those if I come back empty-handed.”
Abby seemed pleased as she grabbed the pot and headed off toward the mossy thatch where the mushrooms grew.
Whit walked to the creek, carefully climbing amongst the river rocks to her fishing spot.
The water rushed along in the early morning light, its shimmering silver covered in wisps of cottony fog, smelling like minerals and cold copper.
She stood positioned to strike and waited for a fish to swim slowly into view.
It didn’t take long and she was able to spear one right away.
The trout wasn’t as large as the two she’d caught yesterday, but it would do.
She quickly removed it from her stick and readied herself for another.
She had another one within fifteen minutes and proudly carried her catch back to camp after she cleaned them.
Abby was sitting at the fire, slicing up mushrooms.
“Fish for breakfast,” Whit said with a smile.
Abby beamed.
Whit settled down across from her on the log and arranged the slab of rock over the flames. “I’ve been thinking,” she said as she carefully placed the fillets on the flat surface.
“Yeah?” Abby looked at her quizzically.
“I think we should stay here another day.”
Abby’s brow knitted with obvious concern.
“Hear me out,” Whit said. “If we stay, I can catch more fish. A lot more. And I can smoke them. That way we have guaranteed food for our journey.”
“But what about the creep?” She was still anxious about their visitor. Whit tried to console her.
“I don’t think that was him last night. Nothing was amiss at camp this morning and we weren’t disturbed again.”
Abby seemed to think for a moment, stirring the bits of mushrooms in the pot with her small knife.
“Besides,” Whit continued. “You need to rest your knee and we’d both benefit from not having to walk for miles today.”
“There’s no guarantee of food if we continue today?”
“No.”
“Guess we’re staying then.” She offered a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her trepidation was still evident, but she was trying to be a good sport. Whit was appreciative.
“It’ll pay off, you’ll see.” Whit offered her a smile of her own, hoping to ease her qualms. But Abby glanced away and studied the pot of mushrooms instead.
The fish hissed and sizzled on the rock face and Whit watched it closely, waiting patiently to flip it.
Abby began cooking the mushrooms, and soon the camp was filled with the smoky scent of cooking food.
Whit’s stomach grumbled in anticipation and the rising sun cast a golden glow upon them.
Once again, she was moved by the beauty around her.
“It’s so damn beautiful here,” she said as she turned to look at the crystals of sunlight dancing along the whiskey color of the creek.
“You sound like a tourist,” Abby said playfully. “Completely in awe of Alaska.”
“I am in awe.” Whit turned back around and poked at the fish. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out in nature like this. Guess I’d forgotten just how wonderful it is.”
“Why is that?” Abby asked. “You obviously enjoy being outdoors, so why haven’t you been out in a while?”
Whit felt her face crumble and she flipped the fish with her blade. She could feel Abby watching her intently and she knew she had to give an answer.
“I’ve been busy and I guess time just got away from me.” She had been busy. She just didn’t want to go into detail as to why.
Abby didn’t seem to believe her at first, still watching her closely with an ambiguous look on her face.
But eventually, she refocused on the pot and removed it from the fire.
Whit tried to breathe easy, but the topic had brought up the other woman in her life once again.
Worry clenched her gut, along with the guilt of being away.
She wished she could at least call. To let her know she was trying her best to get back to her.
But she couldn’t and her heart ached, wondering what she must be thinking.
“We’ll get home,” Whit said softly to herself, now more determined than ever. “No matter who or what gets in our way.”