Up Close and Dangerous (Page 74)

Might as well face it, he told himself cheerfully: his bachelor days were over. He’d have to go all the way with this. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate just being lovers, not for any length of time, but at the same time she’d panic at the idea of a real marriage, with real commitment. He didn’t know how he’d convince her to take the chance, but he’d manage, and have a lot of fun in the process.

“HERE’S YOUR MORNING coffee,” Cam said, waking her with a kiss and extending the deodorant can cap half-full of pine needle tea.

“Umm, coffee!” Sleepily she struggled to a sitting position, shifting around so she could lean against the rock, and took the cap from him. The first sip was wonderful, but not because of the taste, because of the heat—and the consideration of the gesture. No one had ever brought her anything first thing in the morning, she’d always gotten it herself. She took another sip, then offered the cap to him. “It’s great—made from the finest pine needles grown in America.”

He shook his head as he settled beside her. “I’ve already had some. That’s all yours.”

As hot morning drinks went, pine needle tea didn’t have the kick of coffee or tea, but she wasn’t complaining. All in all, she was happy to have it. In fact, she was ridiculously happy this morning, period—which was scary. She pushed the thought away for later examination and said, “So, what’s on the agenda today? Shopping, a little sightseeing, then lunch?”

“I thought we’d go for a nature hike in the mountains.” He put his arm around her shoulders, held her close as he pulled some of the jumbled clothing over their legs. Even with the fire burning just outside, even with the hot drink, the air was still freezing cold and their shelter was far from airtight.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“We have to push hard today.” He sounded somber, and she gave him a quick glance. “Maybe make a sling and lower ourselves and the sled over some vertical drops, that should gain us some time. We need to get out of this wind layer today, so we can get some smoke going.”

Bailey didn’t have to be told why. The pine nuts would keep them going, but they needed more food than just a handful of nuts a couple of times a day. They didn’t know how many more times the battery would start a fire before it was drained of its charge, and the pinecones really needed to be heated before they would easily release the nuts, which made even that an iffy source of food. Today was do-it-or-die day—she hoped not literally, but the possibility was there, had been there from day one. They were in a precarious position.

After eating the handful of nuts, they quickly packed up their supplies, buried the fire, and headed out. She was almost glad there was no opportunity for cuddling or loverlike displays, even more lovemaking. The offering of pine needle tea surpassed any other loverly gesture he might have made, and as for more lovemaking, well, she was a little sore from all his playing, which wasn’t surprising considering how long it had been since she’d had sex.

Besides, she needed time to process. Although she was very adaptive when it came to her surroundings, emotionally she was much less flexible. A day of hard physical exertion and absolutely no demands on her emotions was exactly what she needed.

Which was a good thing, because that was exactly what she got. Cam set a grueling pace, so grueling she was terrified for him. He was in the lead, so if he stepped on a seemingly solid place and it turned out to be a snowbank that caved in beneath him, he’d be gone before she could begin to react, pulling the heavy sled down on top of him.

That scenario suddenly was so real that she yelled “Stop!” and when he did she hurried to get in front. “I’ll lead,” she said brusquely, setting out at the same pace he’d set.

“What the fu—? Hey!” he yelled after her, scowling as he tried to catch up.

“You’re pulling the sled. I’ll test the footing.”

He didn’t like that at all, but until he could catch her, there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it—and he couldn’t catch up with her as long as he was pulling the sled. She settled the makeshift straps of the roll-aboard backpack more comfortably on her shoulders, and plowed ahead.

She did pick up a long, sturdy branch to use to poke into the ground ahead of her, just to make certain the ground was really there, but she didn’t let it slow her down much. The possibility of being rescued either this afternoon or tomorrow pulled her along. God, she wanted off this mountain! She developed a rhythm, the poke of the stick through the snow followed by the slide of her snowshoes over the crusty top layer. The sounds were monotonous, lulling, which was in itself a danger. Poke, slide, slide, poke, slide, slide. She had to force herself to pay attention.

They slithered down slopes that the day before they would have detoured around. Most of them she couldn’t have negotiated without the sturdy stick, and at every one they had to remove their snowshoes so they could get better traction. She would go down first, and Cam would lower the sled to her, carefully playing out the rope he’d made by tying pieces of clothing together. Then she would hold the sled while he made his way down, at which point he would take over the sled again.

He didn’t mention taking point, but the current system, with her testing the way, was working out so well he’d have been a fool to insist that he lead. If there was one thing Cam wasn’t, she thought, it was a fool. He had an ego, but he also had a brain, and in him the brain trumped everything else. She liked that; no, she loved it. She repeated the word to herself several times. Love, love, love. It took some getting used to, but she didn’t feel quite as panicked now as she had at first.