Chapter 24
Mitch
As I sprinted toward the trees with Charlie's limp body in my arms, her head lolled against my shoulder. Each jarring step drove her weight harder into my chest, and the heat radiating off her skin burned through my bare skin like hot coals.
She's way too hot.
I'd seen heat stroke drop a soldier mid-patrol. The guy could ruck thirty klicks with full kit, yet he’d collapsed as though someone cut his strings.
One minute joking about the heat, the next seizing in the dirt while we dumped water on him and screamed for medevac.
The human body was resilient as hell until suddenly it wasn't. Then you had seconds, not minutes.
How long did Charlie have?
We were days from safety.
The shade of the coolibah trees was instant relief, maybe five degrees cooler, and stopped the blazing heat from frying my brain. I dropped to my knees, still cradling her against my chest, my heart trying to hammer its way out through my ribs.
"Charlie." I shook her gently. Nothing.
Her skin was slick, flushed dark red beneath the dirt and sunburn. I pressed two fingers to her neck. Her pulse hammered way too fast. Heat stroke. Had to be.
"Charlie, come on. Stay with me."
Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.
I scanned the endless expanse beyond our pathetic circle of shade. Red dirt, scrub, that relentless sun beating down in a personal vendetta. No water. No help for miles in any goddamn direction.
The swollen creek water was an option, but even if I could haul water back here, I had nothing to boil it in.
Dirty floodwater could kill her just as dead as heat stroke from giardia, crypto, E.
coli … Christ knows what else. I'd seen soldiers in the field shit themselves to death from drinking bad water.
I had two pouches of clean water in Zeus's saddlebags. Wherever the hell my horse was.
A hot gust kicked grit across the back of my neck, and as a crushing wave of uselessness crashed over me, I wanted to put my fist through the damn tree trunk. Somewhere behind me, a crow gave its ugly, laughing caw like the Outback itself was mocking me.
"Come on, Charlie." My voice came out rough, raw. "Don't do this."
Her breathing was too shallow, too rapid. Her eyes moved beneath closed lids like she was trying to escape a nightmare she couldn't wake from.
"Don't you dare give up now."
I shifted her more upright, trying to get air moving around her core.
At the base of the tree, I tore into the dirt with my knife, frantically digging out four more coolibah roots.
As I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, I peeled back the root skin and got them ready for the moment she came to.
Minutes crawled by like wounded animals. Five. Ten. I'd survived firefights in Kandahar. Pulled wounded men from burning Humvees. Navigated ambushes that should have killed me six times over.
But out here, in my own goddamn country, I was helpless.
All that training, all those years in the SAS, and I couldn't do one damn thing to help her.
Her eyelids fluttered again, and her lips moved.
"Charlie!" I leaned closer, my hand cupping her face. "Come on, open your eyes."
They cracked open to a squint. Unfocused. Confused.
“That’s it, Charlie. You can do it.”
"Mitch?" Her voice was barely a whisper, cracked and dry as the dirt beneath us.
Relief hit me so hard it left me dizzy. "Yeah. I'm here. Don't try to move yet."
She blinked slowly, struggling to focus on my face. "What...? What happened?"
"You passed out. Heat stroke, probably. Or severe dehydration." I grabbed one of the roots and pressed it into her hand. "Here. Suck on this."
As her fingers closed weakly around it, I wiped the sweat from her forehead with my thumb. Her skin was still too hot beneath my touch.
She frowned, as though she was trying to piece together where she was or how she’d gotten here. "How long was I out?"
"About fifteen minutes."
As she brought the root to her cracked lips, her gaze drifted to the horizon, then back to me. Even disoriented and half-conscious, I could see her mind working, assembling the pieces. Understanding what this meant.
We were in serious trouble, and she knew it.
"I'm so thirsty," she whispered.
"I know. Me, too."
I sat back on my heels, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. The decision I'd been wrestling with for the past fifteen minutes sat in my gut as inevitable and heavy as a stone.
"Charlie." I met her eyes. "I need to find Zeus. I've got water in the saddlebags."
Understanding flickered across her face, followed immediately by fear. She knew what I was saying. And what I wasn't saying.
I had to leave her here.
"You'll move faster alone," she said quietly. Not a question. A statement.
I nodded, hating that we were out of choices. "And with Zeus, we can ride out of here and get back to the ranch quicker."
"What if you don't find him?"
"I will."
"Don't." She clamped her jaw so hard it trembled. "Don't do that, Mitch. Tell me the truth."
The truth. Christ, she wanted the truth.
I took a breath. "If I don't find him, I'll come back here, and we'll figure this out together. But I will find him, Charlie."
She was quiet for a long moment, chest rising and falling with those too-shallow breaths. Then she pushed herself up on one elbow, wincing. "How long will you be gone?"
"Don't know. Two hours. Maybe three or four." I paused. I had to give her the worst case. "I could be longer."
"All day?"
I met her gaze, needing her to understand. I needed her to believe me. "I will come back for you, Charlie." I reached for her hand, and our palms slotted together as if we'd done this a hundred times before. "I promise you."
"Okay," she whispered.
That was all she said. Just okay.
No arguments. No panic. No begging me not to go.
The sheer bravery in that single word hit me harder than any punch ever had.
"Charlie—"
"I'm fine." But I saw the flash of terror in her eyes that she was fighting so hard to hide. Her free hand clutched at the hem of her grubby shorts, knuckles bone-white. "Just... find Zeus and get us out of here. Okay?"
My heart beat so hard it was a miracle my chest didn’t crack wide open.
I moved closer and cupped her face in my hand. Her skin was too hot, flushed, and slick with sweat, but her cheek fit perfectly against my palm like it belonged there. Those honey-gold eyes locked onto mine, wide and vulnerable and so goddamn trusting it made my heart ache.
"I will," I said, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "I swear to you, Charlie. I'm coming back."
Her hand came up to cover mine, pressing my palm harder against her cheek. Her fingers trembled. Time stopped around us as hot wind threaded through branches above.
I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone, memorizing the exact feel of her skin, the precise shade of liquid gold in her eyes, the way she looked at me as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
My hand slid back, fingers threading into her hair. The dark strands were damp with sweat, tangled, and I didn't care. I leaned in.
Her breath caught. Those golden eyes went wider, but she didn't pull away.
I kissed her. Soft at first. Careful. Her lips were dry and cracked from the heat, tasting of dust but with a sweetness beneath. Her mouth moved against mine, tentative, as if she was afraid I might disappear if she pushed too hard.
My other hand came up to cradle the back of her head as I deepened the kiss. Not demanding. Just... more. Every promise I'd ever made poured into this one moment. Each gentle press of my lips conveyed how deeply I hated leaving her here alone.
She made a soft sound and grabbed my shirt, erasing the space between us. When I found the strength to ease back, our breathing came harsh and uneven. Her eyes stayed closed, lips parted, and God help me, I almost forgot every reason to stop.
"You're going to be fine," I said, my voice scraping out. "Just rest. Stay in the shade. I cut more roots for you. Suck on them to keep yourself hydrated. And, Charlie..." I held her gaze until I knew she understood. "Stay with this tree. Do not wander away or I'll never find you again."
She nodded against my palm.
I made myself pull away, each movement a battle. I tugged the rabbit meat from inside my shirt, kept just enough to keep me going, then pressed the rest into her hands. "Eat this. All of it."
"What about you?"
"I'm fine. You need the protein, Charlie. I mean it."
She took the meat with shaking hands.
I stood, stepped back, undid the remaining buttons on my tattered shirt, tugged it off, and held it toward her. "When it gets cooler, put this on."
"But you need—"
"Don't argue, Charlie."
"Man, you're bossy," she muttered, grabbing the shirt and curling it onto her lap.
I plucked the lighter from my pocket and handed it to her. "Light a fire before it gets dark. It'll keep you warm and help me find you."
Her fingers closed around it slowly. "But this is your lucky lighter."
She was trying to joke. Trying to be brave. But the worry in her eyes killed any trace of humor.
"Exactly. That's why it's for you." I attempted a smile. "I'll get it off you when I come back."
Her honey-gold eyes saw right through every defense I'd ever built. She looked small and hurt and terrified, but also fierce. Determined. Unbreakable, even when she was broken.
I dragged over a large dead branch, thick enough to burn for hours, but it won’t last all night. “Build the fire around this but light it as late as possible.”
“If we light it now, you can take the lighter with—”
“Charlie. No. This is all the timber you have. You need to light this fire once it’s nearly dark and only add more fuel when absolutely necessary. Understand?"
"Ok, I understand." She swallowed hard. "Now, will you just get out of here? You're making this awkward."
That almost broke me.
I backed toward the edge of the shade. "Keep the fire going. Suck on those roots. And don't leave the tree."
Her chin trembled. Then she lifted her face, squared her shoulders, and gave me a small nod. "I won't. Don't you dare get lost out there."
The expression on her face would haunt me every step of the way.
I turned and sprinted away from the tree, from her, from the image of her sitting there alone, watching me disappear into the distance. That image seared itself into my brain, as permanent as a brand.
I will come back for her.
I will.
I ran faster.