Page 43 of Burn Point

Nate would’ve been proud of how I’d stayed close to camp and been hyper-aware of my surroundings.

By nightfall, I was curled up with a good book, refusing to let myself be intimidated by the solitude. And if I was a touch bored, lonely even, I chose to ignore it.

I stayed at the first site for two nights and after talking to the people camping next to me, I decided to move. I found a new spot about an hour away, one they promised had cell coverage.

Everything was fine and dandy, until I was traveling a two-lane road, out in the middle of nowhere, and a rusted-out pickup truck dropped a couple of two-by-fours on the road in front of me. I tried to avoid the debris but clipped a piece. Praying that I didn’t do damage to Pearl, I forged on, but soon the thump-thump of a flat tire had me banging the steering wheel out of frustration.

I limped Pearl to an abandoned gas station, scared to death and wondering if I could handle this alone.

One hour—filled with some pretty inventive cussing—later, I pulled Pearl back out onto the road and was on my way.

After checking in and setting up camp, I set my chair out on the bank of the creek with my Kindle and a cold beer. Though I was in the mountains, the campground itself was flat, with spacious campsites, a nice parking pad, and plenty of lawn space. Bonus, it had electric hookup and excellent cell coverage.

I looked around, reveling in the knowledge that I’d just handled a major problem on my own. Pride welled up within me.

I was doing it. My dreams were coming true.

The perfect afternoon settled around me, and I sank into my chair to begin work, but reading the disaster of a manuscript was beyond me when I was so pumped. I needed to share this moment with someone.

Picking up the phone, I dialed Nate’s number.

Chapter 10

Nate

My phone vibrated while I was standing at the checkout counter at the sporting goods store, buying fishing lures and a rod-reel combo I didn’t need. I had no idea why I’d driven nearly two hours north to buy fishing stuff I already owned. But the days since Jordan had left had been long, and with nothing else to do, it felt like a good time to spend a day out of town.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swiped without looking to see who it was.

“Go for Nate.”

The guy in front of me finished up his transaction and I stepped up to pay.

“Nate! Oh my God! You’ll never guess what I just did.” Jordan’s voice teemed with excitement and put an instant smile on my face. I’d be willing to bet if she were standing in front of me, she’d be bouncing on her toes.

“Hey Skippy, what’d you do?” Her enthusiasm was contagious.

“I changed a flat tire on Pearl. All by myself!”

I turned my goofy grin on the cashier and handed her my card, not caring even a little bit about what my total came to.

“Wait. What did you say?” My brows furrowed as her words registered. “You had a flat? What happened? Where are you?”

The cashier handed me my card and bag with a look of apprehension, like maybe I was flying off the handle and about to unload my crazy on her.

I hightailed it to my truck, slinging my bag into the passenger seat as I hopped in. I still had enough time to get to her if she needed me. Good thing I’d headed north.

On the other end of the line, Jordan laughed. “I moved to a different campground, and as I was on my way over, I ran over a board with a nail in it. But Nate! I changed the tire all by myself.”

What she was saying sank in then.

She didn’t need me to come rescue her.

She had rescued herself. The tension whooshed out of me, leaving a strange hollowness in its wake. I sat back, draping an arm over the steering wheel. I missed her. The realization slammed into me.

“Well, that’s great then. Go you!” I gave a fist pump like she could see it, swallowing my pride that she didn’t need me at all. Didn’t sound like she missed me at all.

“You just did a fist pump didn’t you?” I closed my eyes against the teasing sound of her voice. “You goober.”

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