CHAPTER NINE
Evangeline
Jonah’s a good listener and the words spill out of my mouth, probably with more than he ever wanted to know about my family. He gets a shell-shocked look and I give him a wary glance as I cap my water bottle.
“You okay?”
He nods and we begin walking. I’m wearing a ballcap with the poncho hood over that. It works pretty well but there’s no way to avoid all the wet. If I have to be stuck in the mountains tracked by dangerous poachers, I’d rather be with Jonah than anyone else.
“I was going to call you anyway.”
My head turns in his direction at the quiet words. “Call me?”
“That time at your university when you kissed me.”
The embarrassment has faded—somewhat—but that doesn’t mean I want to refresh the memory. “Ah, no need to talk about the most mortifying experience of my life.”
“You have no reason to be mortified.”
“Says the guy who’s probably never been embarrassed a day in his life. Plus, you don’t get to decide what’s right for me to feel.” An icy rivulet drips down my neck. “We’re good. Really.”
“No, we’re not. I want you to know what happened. I didn’t visit because your brothers asked me to. Or rather, not only because they asked me to.”
“You don’t have to make me feel better, Cooper. I’m a big girl and responsible for my emotions.”
“Can you listen for a damned minute?”
Calling him Cooper pisses him off. Good. “Okay, proceed, and I shall listen.”
He ignores the snark.
“I noticed you.”
“You noticed me,” I echo dryly.
“Yeah. We were both at that holiday party in the Falls a few months earlier. It was like I’d never seen you before. You were no longer a kid. In fact, you were smart and fucking gorgeous, and you caught my attention.”
I ignore the warmth spreading in my chest. “So, you were in Merced and came by and it wasn’t because my brothers asked you to.”
“Not exactly. I had business in Sacramento and took a side trip to Merced. You’d been in my head since that party and I wanted to see you.”
“That drive’s four hours, round trip. Quite the side trip.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, I wanted to see you. Then Elias contacted me, said you were torn up over a guy. He was worried about you and asked me to check on you. I was already on my way.”
“Then why’d you act like I carried the plague?”
“That’s not how I acted, and maybe things would have turned out differently if Elias hadn’t called.
” He uselessly wipes rain from his chin.
“But you were on the rebound from a tough breakup, and your brother asked me to check on you. He trusted me. I wanted to be with you, but I couldn’t violate that trust.”
“And after that? We’d run into each other and you barely tolerated me.”
He stops and faces me, rain dripping from the rim of his hat.
“I went to those parties, didn’t I? I went because you were there.
But you made it clear I’d blown it and were no longer interested.
” There’s a long pause. “Then you moved away for grad school and got that job up north, and it seemed like that was that. Surprised the hell out of me to find out you’d moved back. ”
“I’d been waiting for a local position to open up because I wanted to be home.”
He gives me a long look. A shiver snakes down my spine and he scowls. “We need to get you to shelter.”
“We’re both cold.”
“How far to the line shack?”
“I don’t think it’s much farther.”
He sets off again and we’re forced to walk single file as the trail narrows.
I duck my head to shield my face from the rain, keeping my focus on the man in front of me.
Jonah admitted he’s attracted to me. Or at least he was when I was in college.
And now? The kisses yesterday are a good sign we’re both still feeling it.
He stops abruptly and points. “That it?”
Log-cabin style like the other one, this structure really does look like a shack. We’ll be lucky if the door shuts all the way.
“Yeah. It looks rough.”
“Let’s hope the roof is watertight.” He looks around. “On the plus side, it’s up against that rise so no one can approach from behind and we’ll have a good view in front.”
I nod. I’m cold, hungry, and ready to be done with this adventure.
We arrive at the cabin. Slowly, I climb the porch steps, not allowing myself to think about how much I’d love a hot bath, something warm to eat, and a soft bed.
I stop just inside the door with Jonah at my back.
The dingy window allows in minimal light. I clear my throat. “On the plus side, it’s dry, so the roof doesn’t leak. And there’s a wood burner.”
Jonah points. “With wood in that crate.”
There are a couple chairs but no table, and the bed is a wide plywood platform with no mattress. A long shelf holds a large container with a spigot for water, bins that look like they’ve been here a decade, and a couple dusty lanterns.
Hands on my shoulders, Jonah moves me aside. He lowers his backpack to the bed platform and opens it. Rummaging inside, he pulls out a plastic bag and hands it to me. “I packed these this morning. You get the fire started, I’ll get the water.”
“You brought matches?” I hold up the bag to inspect the contents. “And purification tablets? Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You got us to a safe place for tonight. I brought supplies just in case.” He pauses. “We make a good team.”
He heads out with the water jug and I set to work. My fingers are numb with cold, but a few broken matchsticks later, I hold the tiny flame to the kindling. It catches, and in minutes the small blaze is growing.
I glance out the window, trying to spot Jonah. He’s been gone longer than it takes to fill the water jug. Maybe he had trouble finding the spring.
An uneasy feeling has me grabbing the rifle and moving to the door.
The spring is near a clump of aspen trees and that’s where I go. The rain has eased and everything is wet and dripping. I’m cautious and don’t call out.
I find the water jug lying beside a small pond. The spring box made of roughhewn lumber houses the water source. Jonah’s standing in the doorway, a finger to his lips. He lifts his chin toward the trees.
A black bear peers through the gray trunks of aspens.
It circles the pond, stopping to lap water, then lumbers across the open space between us.
My hand rests on the bear spray canister attached to my belt.
It squats and pees, which identifies her as female, and this time of year she’ll likely have cubs.
I remain still, knowing Jonah will do the same.
I’m positive the sow smells us. Hopefully, she won’t see us as a threat.
Black bears aren’t aggressive, except for mamas protecting their young.
A rustling from the undergrowth tells me we’re not in the clear yet. Sure enough, two cubs, I estimate they’re about four months old, chase each other into the open.
They make a beeline for the blue water jug. One cub jumps on it and the other joins in. They play until the jug ends up bobbing in the pond.
Mama bear grunts, the sound she makes holding a universal mother “I’ve had enough, kids” tone. But a splash is followed by another and both cubs are in the water, playing with their floating toy. Climbing on it, rolling it, batting at it. Jonah catches my eye and the corner of his mouth tilts up.
With a huff every mom understands, the sow wades into the pond and grabs a cub by the scruff and hauls it out. As soon as she turns her back to retrieve her other baby, the first cub charges back into the water.
The process plays out twice more before the frustrated mama convinces her babies to follow her and they disappear into the trees.
I take a few minutes to make sure they’re gone before moving toward Jonah.
His eyes are bright with laughter as I approach. “I swear that bear was just as exasperated as my mom when she couldn’t get me and my sisters out of the creek. They’re fucking cute.”
“We have a pond at the ranch. Brooks used to—” I catch sight of his hand. “Jonah, you’re bleeding.”
Blood is dripping from his hand and onto the ground. I swear my heart stops when I grab his wrist. A diagonal gash about an inch long on the heel of his left palm oozes blood. Cradling his hand, I inspect the wound. “How’d you do this?”
“You don’t want to know. It’s stupid.”
I look up and raise a brow. “I grew up with four brothers. I know stupid. Tell me.”
He gestures to the door behind him. “I pushed against the door and didn’t see this piece of metal sticking out. I think it’s from an old hinge. It cut right through the skin.”
“First-aid kit’s in the cabin. Your tetanus shot up to date?”
“Not due for another couple years.”
“Let’s go. This needs to be cleaned or it’ll get infected.” I take his uninjured hand and try pulling him in the direction of the cabin. He doesn’t budge, and his raised eyebrow brings a flush of warmth to my cheeks.
“What?”
“You’re worried about me.”
“Of course I am. You’re hurt.”
“It’s okay, you can admit you care.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’d care about anyone who’s hurt.”
“Nothing more than that?” His rough voice demands the truth.
He’d admitted having feelings for me, something I never expected. I could keep my armor up so I’m never hurt again. Or I can take the leap and hope he catches me.
Resting a hand on his shoulder, I go up on my toes to press my lips to his. He clutches my jacket before I can step back. We’re so close our noses touch. I shiver and don’t know if it’s from proximity to Jonah or the cold.
“Something you want to tell me, Angel?” His breath is warm on my cheek.
“I care about you, Jonah.” I swallow. “A lot.”
“About damn time,” he says.
Then he kisses me.