Chapter 14
Fourteen
The question in her eyes, the outrage on her face, surprised him. He should have expected her reaction, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Still, for some reason he found himself preferring her smiles instead of her wrath.
How did he make her understand? Given that stunned and incredulous look on her face, he wasn’t so sure he could. Instead, he focused on prepping the tent before they were caught off guard by the volatile forecast.
Ryder had the tent up in minutes. It was a low-slung, wind-cutting dome that snapped together almost faster than Sarah could unroll her sleeping bag.
The wind had picked up, brushing across the trees like a warning.
He could smell the coming snow in the air—a cold bite that sharpened the edges of everything.
He’d hoped they would have more time. Maybe they had just enough time to locate what she wanted to find.
Whatever happened, he was prepared to see this through with her.
He hadn’t told her yet, but earlier he’d caught a glimpse of someone else on the trail. Hikers out for fun? Or someone following them? The other hikers were miles behind and could potentially lose their way, even if their intention was to follow.
Sarah didn’t question him about sharing a tent—at least not yet. Instead, she knelt beside the cleared patch and scanned their surroundings, her expression intense. She didn’t speak. Neither did he.
Finally, she rose, then turned to look at their temporary home for tonight.
“That’s it?” Now she decided to press her point. “Why only one?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Uh-huh. I really want to know what they are. Care to share?”
“It’s common sense. Safety reasons.” And trust reasons. He paused, glancing up at her.
“Honestly, I figured you wouldn’t want your own tent. You know. Bears. Bad guys. Snow. Wind.”
Sarah brushed dirt from her pants. “You figured wrong.”
He didn’t answer that. Didn’t have to.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
He didn’t need this. Didn’t have to explain.
They were here now, and there was nothing he could do about his decision.
An eagle released a shrill, piercing cry, as if to emphasize their backwoods status.
“We’re in the wilderness now. You’ll just have to trust me.
You sought me out, remember?” Okay, he was laying it on too thick.
“Only one tent.” This time it wasn’t a question, but she stared as if trying not to read too much into it. As if coming to terms with the fact.
Ryder nodded. “It’s designed for two. Barely. You’ll be warm enough.”
Sarah arched a brow. “I didn’t say I was cold.”
He met her eyes. “You will be.”
“At least I know I have my own sleeping bag because I brought it.” She emphasized the last words.
Come on. “Of course I would have brought two sleeping bags. What are you thinking?”
She’d set her own trap with that one. Though he caught her cheeks warming, he didn’t wait for her response and instead focused on laying out the rest of the gear.
Something flickered in her expression. Not quite mistrust. Not quite ease. She hesitated, then finally relaxed. “I have the food in my pack, so I’ll make dinner after you get the fire going.”
“Change of plans.”
“What?”
“Saw someone on the trail . . . and then off-trail.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m not sending them smoke signals to let them know where we are.”
Her eyes widened. “You think that someone followed us?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re off-trail. You’re following this mountain the way only you know. How is that possible? You aren’t flashing any kind of beacons that someone could follow, are you?”
“As a matter of fact, no. I’ve thrown out all safety precautions.” He paused to stare her down. “Are you?”
“I have my burner phone, and it’s turned off. Up here, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Maybe it’s nothing, no one is following.”
“We aren’t taking any chances.”
“I get that. But the stove doesn’t give off smoke. It uses clean fuel.” She smiled, almost as if proud of herself for knowing a thing or two.
“No stove either. Light from the flame or even the smell of cooking food could give us away. We can’t risk giving away our position. We’ll eat whatever you want to make for dinner that doesn’t require heat. It’ll be dark soon, so we might as well get some rest.”
“Protein bars it is, then. We keep going like this, and we’ll be out by tomorrow afternoon.” She shook her head and stared out at the mountainous view.
He finished prepping the inside of their shelter and stowed their backpacks there as well. When he crawled out, Sarah watched him.
Then she started for the deeper woods. “I’ll take first watch.”
Ryder stepped into her path. “We’re not on an op, Sarah.”
Her jaw ticked. “You sure? You just said someone is following us and that’s why we can’t have hot food.”
“I said I saw someone. I can’t be sure they’re following. They’ll be stopping for the night too, if not going back. No one is crazy enough to keep going on this mountain at night, especially out here and off-trail. Only two people I know besides me can do it.”
“Well, who are they?”
“No one who’s after you.” He held the flap open and gestured for her to enter first. “My father was one. He’s dead now. The other person, you met in town.”
“Oh, you mean Dean? Your competition?” She entered the tent, brushing past him.
He followed her into the tight space and zipped them inside. Then he turned on a small lantern. “Yeah, him. He’s not after you.”
She tossed him a protein bar. “You get peanut butter. I’ll take the last chocolate.”
“Thanks.” He tore into the wrapper, ignoring his stomach’s protest for a big, juicy steak.
“I wouldn’t dismiss what you saw, Ryder.” She sat cross-legged on the rolled-out sleeping bag. “I told you this was dangerous.”
“You did. And I’m not dismissing what I saw.”
Sarah pulled off her fleece jacket.
Ryder smiled. “See? It’s warm inside because we’re both in here generating heat like two small furnaces.” It felt ten degrees warmer already.
She grinned. “Because you’re full of hot air.”
“Good one.” So he’d heard. Dad used to say that. “The sleeping bags are rated for colder temps as well, so you should be fine.” He’d get them back to Mercy Ridge if cold weather became an issue.
They finished their small meals, hydrated. He removed his boots and set them at the door. Shrugged out of his outer layers until he wore only his thermal undershirt and hiking pants.
“You’re not—”
“I’m sleeping fully dressed, don’t worry.” It wouldn’t be the first or the last time. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was Sarah just a few feet away. But more than anything, it was the gnawing sense that they weren’t as alone up here as they wanted to believe.
He faced away from her like they were strangers—because they were, really—on a long flight.
The silence wasn’t unfriendly. Just . . .
watchful. Measured. Maybe he should strike up conversation.
Ask her where she’d worked before, where she’d done a field op.
He suspected she’d let that information slip.
That she hadn’t meant to reveal she was former military or former three-letter federal agency, which would make sense since he already suspected she’d worked for the government.
Finally, he turned on his back, lacing his hands behind his head, and listened as Sarah’s breathing slowly evened out—though he wasn’t convinced she was asleep.
Neither was he.
He was convinced, though, that she was full of secrets about her life and her personal mission to find an off-the-books World War II crash.
He would unravel those secrets.
Slowly . . . but surely. Even while keeping danger at more than an arm’s length. But he had a strong gut instinct that he would face it head-on before they got off this growling mountain.