TAYLOR SLEPT RESTLESSLY, aware of the strange night sounds in a way she never had been in the past. Brian moaned in his sleep, his body like a furnace beside her. She woke up shivering and realized the fire was nearly out—and that predatory eyes gleamed back at her in the flickering light.
“Shoo!” she said, leaping up and waving her arms.
Whatever it was scurried away in the night. She realized Brian hadn’t moved when she’d risen from their bed. She fed the fire, then sank on her knees beside him and put her hand to his brow. She hissed out a breath and swore, using all the bad words Leah had tried so hard to ban from her vocabulary.
Taylor wondered if Brian would be able to get up in the morning. If he didn’t, she would have to search out his trap and retrieve whatever was caught in it and gut it and skin it—
That was as far as she let her thoughts go before she reined them in. It was a job she’d done in the past, just to prove she could, but she’d been sick to her stomach afterward, where no one could see her. She’d do what had to be done. And since her stomach was empty, she supposed she’d end up retching nothing.
She tried lying back down but couldn’t sleep. She wondered what she should do if Brian couldn’t get up when the sun rose. She was afraid to leave him alone. He would be defenseless. But if she didn’t leave him, they’d soon be out of drinking water. Water was also vitally necessary to bathe Brian’s body and force down the fever.
And if he could walk? What then? Which way would take them where they needed to go?
Downhill. Downhill usually led to water. This area of the forest was flat, and the trees were too thick to see the mountains that she knew surrounded them. So which way was downhill?
Taylor tried to stay calm. Panicking wasn’t going to help either of them. She needed to sleep, to rest her body, so she could do whatever needed to be done in the morning. She closed her eyes and heard Brian’s ragged breathing. The scurrying sounds of small animals in the dark. The hoot of an owl. And the whisper of the pines in the gentle night breeze.
She tried to imagine what it would have been like to be a pioneer woman crossing this land for the first time. She smiled at the image of herself in homespun and farmer’s boots. How strong—of body and heart—those first women must have been! How fearless! She wondered if she would’ve had the courage to get this far. At the moment, she needed all the nerve she could muster just to face another day in the wilderness. Tamped-down terror had her heart working overtime.
The next thing Taylor knew, freckles of sunlight were dancing across her closed eyelids. She lay still, listening, then slowly opened her eyes. She heard a magpie’s raucous wake-up call, and a gust of wind rustling the greener than green pines. She could see bits of blue sky and a few fluffy clouds. She might have been on a campout with her sisters. Everything that had happened seemed like a horrible dream from which she was finally waking up. Taylor looked to her left, to share the enchanting moment with Brian.
He was gone.
She leapt to her feet, certain he’d become delirious with fever and wandered into the forest. “Brian! Where are you?”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m right here.”
She whirled and saw him standing with a skinned rabbit hanging from one hand and a water bottle in the other, a grin on his face.
She leapt at him and pounded his chest with her fists. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
“Ow!” he said, stepping out of the way so he wouldn’t get pummeled. “That’s a fine thanks for catching us breakfast and finding us water.”
“I woke up and you weren’t here! Why did you leave without saying something?”
“You looked like you needed the sleep. Besides, as I recall, you’re not too keen on butchering game.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How do you know that?”
“We boys did a lot of spying on you girls back in the day.”
She made a disgusted face. “I should’ve known.”
“There’s a shallow stream about a city block in that direction.” He pointed toward the rising sun. “I took a quick dip with my bar of soap. You might like to do the same.” He pointed to the soap, which he’d left out on a rock.
The thought of being able to wash her hair and scour her body sounded wonderful. “Is it safe for me to go there alone?”
“I didn’t see any bear sign or cougar or wolf tracks. You’ll be fine. Breakfast will be ready by the time you get back.”
“A bath and breakfast both?” she quipped. “You are an Eagle Scout.”
He laughed.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to the stream that Taylor realized Brian had been acting so normally, she hadn’t even asked how he was feeling. Last night she’d been sure he was dying of fever. This morning he was smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world. What had happened? How had he bounced back so completely? Had he fought off the fever against all odds? Was his leg healing after all?
She started to turn around and ask, but the lure of enough water to bathe kept her moving forward. She found the shallow stream without any trouble and immediately shed her clothing and sat down. She knew enough not to drink the water before it had been boiled. Mountaineers who’d gone to Nepal, and returned to Wyoming’s Grand Tetons to hike and climb, had brought back foreign strains of giardia, a parasite living in the water that caused dysentery.
She was careful not to get the water in her mouth as she scooped up enough to splash on her face and into her hair. She lathered Brian’s soap and washed everywhere, reveling in the feeling of being clean again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the luxury of bathing.
Taylor had her head bent low, rinsing her hair when she heard something move in the bushes behind her. She threw her head back to get her hair out of her eyes and rose from the water, ready to flee.
“Whoa there! It’s just me.”
She whirled, her heart hammering, swiping at the water and soap in her eyes and sputtering as water sluiced across her mouth. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”
It never occurred to her to cover her body. Brian had already seen all there was to see when they were teenagers.
“Good lord.” He said it softly, like a prayer.
It took her a moment to realize he was looking at her with awe. And with reverence.
“What’s wrong? You’ve seen all this before.”
“Never like this,” he said. “The way you slung your hair back, you looked like some goddess rising from the sea. I don’t know if I ever said it as a kid, but I’m saying it now. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
Taylor felt a sudden flush on her upper chest which spread quickly, putting a blush on her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your bath,” he said. “You were gone so long I was getting worried.”
“How long have I been gone?”
“Almost an hour.”
“I had no idea so much time had passed. I guess I was enjoying this too much.” She plopped back down and splashed her fingers through the water, scaring away tiny fish. “This is heaven.” She scooped up two handfuls of water and threw it onto her hair to continue rinsing out the soap.
“Want some help? I brought a bottle to fill with water to be boiled. I might as well use it to rinse your hair.”
She wanted to refuse, but it was time-consuming to scoop water with her hands, and he could simply fill the bottle and pour it over her head. “All right. Thanks.”
To her surprise, Brian sat on a flat stone and pulled off his shoes and socks, then stood and filled the bottle.
He stepped gingerly into the stream, the bottom of which was full of water-smoothed stones. Her skin felt warm where he laid a hand on her shoulder to steady himself as he kicked aside enough stones to make a comfortable spot to stand.
She leaned her body forward, so the soap would sluice off easily.
As Brian poured, he ran his hands gently through her hair. When the bottle was empty, he handed it to her and said, “Refill this.”
While she did, he massaged her shoulders.
“That feels good,” she murmured.
He took the filled bottle from her and poured, rinsing until she finally saw no more suds. She raised her head, pushed her hair back, and said, “Thanks. I’m good.”
He squatted down so they were eye to eye. Taylor resisted the urge to cover her breasts. Instead, she met his gaze, stunned by the admiration she found there.
Brian pulled off his T-shirt, treating her to a view of a broad, muscular chest fanned with dark hair and a belly that looked concave. He used his shirt to dab the water from her eyelashes, from her cheeks, and from her lips. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.
She waited for him to touch. She wanted him to touch. When he didn’t, she laid a hand on his chest, watching his muscles flex and his body quiver as she ran her fingertips through the thick mat of dark curls that covered his naked flesh. She looked up at him, an invitation in her eyes to do more than kiss. She watched the sudden flare of desire before he lowered his gaze to his hands, which were bunched into fists around his T-shirt.
Taylor felt the rejection all the way to her marrow.
They were out of the cave now. They were free. Brian might like her looks, but he didn’t want anything more to do with her.
He rose abruptly, lifting her along with him.
Taylor swallowed her disappointment. She would be damned before she let Brian Flynn know he’d hurt her feelings.
He let go of her arms and said, “Thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me? You did all the work.”
“For allowing me the joy of seeing you like this.”
Confused by the contradiction between the avid look in Brian’s eyes and the sweet words he was speaking—and the sting of his recent rejection—Taylor suddenly felt the need to cover herself. She turned her back on him, grabbed her chambray shirt, and pulled it on.
His hands settled on her shoulders as he turned her back around. “Let me.”
Why was he suddenly being so tender? What did it mean? Did he want her? Or didn’t he?
Brian kissed his way up her body as he buttoned the buttons that hadn’t been lost when he’d stripped her in the cave. When he reached her throat, he kissed the space below her chin, then nuzzled her neck.
“I’m not completely dry. You’re going to end up with giardia,” she muttered.
He grinned. “It’ll be worth it.”
She took a step back, grabbed her bikini underwear—which she’d washed and hung on a nearby branch, and which was nearly dry—and pulled it on under her shirttails. Then she reached for her jeans and zipped herself into them. She grabbed her still-drying bra from another branch and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. She’d experienced her share of mistakes and misunderstandings. Her life was messed up enough. She didn’t need Brian Flynn complicating it any more than it already was. If he wanted her at arm’s length, that was where she’d stay.
“Why aren’t you sick with fever?” she demanded.
“I have no idea.”
“How’s your leg?”
“Hurts like a sonofabitch.”
“Then you’re not well.”
“Nope.”
Maybe that was why, despite the desire she’d seen in his eyes, Brian had rejected her. Maybe he was in too much pain to be thinking about sex. Taylor felt awful, but not awful enough to relax her guard entirely. “Is your fever gone?”
“Yep.”
“How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to hang around here waiting to find out. Let’s eat breakfast, pack up our stuff, and get moving.”
Taylor hadn’t washed her socks because she wasn’t sure they’d get dry. They were stiff with sweat and dirt. She sat on a rock and pulled them on anyway, then tugged her hiking boots on and laced them up. When she was done, she stood and gestured back in the direction of their camp. “After you.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you recognize who the leader is around here.”
She linked her arm with his and said, “I’ll follow anyone who’ll get me back to civilization. Lead on, Mr. Flynn.”