Page 40 of Searching Blind

A slight smile curved his mouth. “I know your footsteps and your smell.”

She made a face. “Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for a bath right now.” The bath wipes she always packed with her hiking gear weren’t cutting it anymore. She was covered in too much grime and blood, and who knew what else.

“I’d settle for a plain old shower,” Sawyer said. “But, hey, at least we all still have toothbrushes and minty fresh breath.”

“Thankfully.” She stared out over the horizon as dawn speared through the sky, chasing away the darkness. The morning was still, the world holding its breath as if waiting for something. “Sorry if I stink.”

“No, it’s not like that,” he chuckled, still not opening his eyes. “I mean, you have a… distinct scent. Hard to describe. A mix of pine and wildflowers and something else I can’t place…” He broke off, frowning slightly as if trying to find the right words. “Like the air after it rains. Sweet and earthy.”

Lucy blinked, taken aback. Slowly she turned her gaze from the rising sun to Sawyer. She studied his face. He was so pretty, though he’d probably hate being called that. Something fluttered in her chest, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Well,” she said, attempting to keep her voice light. “You smell like dog.”

He chuckled at that, the sound surprising a laugh out of her as well. It felt good to laugh.

“That’s an insult to dogs,” he said. “I reek. I don’t know how you can stand sitting beside me right now. I can barely stand it.”

“Well, it’s either sit here with you or stay in there with Chuck, and I’d pick you over his BO any day.”

“Jesus, it’s so bad, right? I thought I was the only one who noticed. It’s like dirty socks and onions.”

She wrinkled her nose. “He’s one of the most unpleasant people I’ve ever met, both personality-wise and scent-wise. I feel bad for Joel.”

Sawyer was silent for a beat. “My dad’s a lot like him.”

Surprised by the admission, she turned to look at Sawyer. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, opening his eyes and turning to face her. “Always had to be the biggest, toughest, loudest guy in the room. Thought it made him strong.”

Lucy could see the hurt in his posture—the rigid set of his shoulders, the tight clench of his jaw. She knew what it was like to carry that sort of ache around, the one that burrowed its way into your bones and made you feel alone even in a crowded room. “That’s not strength.”

“No, it’s not. He’s an obnoxious bully.” He exhaled a long, slow breath. “He’s why I joined the military, you know. ‘Be a man,’ he’d always say. He was so proud when I enlisted, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a relationship with him. But that was when I could still see.” He paused, and a frown tugged down the corners of his mouth. “But now he acts like I’m a disappointment. Like it was my choice to be blind and fuck up my life. I haven’t talked to him in years. I think that’s why I have no patience for Chuck. The guy reminds me too much of him.”

Lucy felt an unexpected surge of anger at his father for ever making him feel like a disappointment. He was the most incredible person she had ever met. Kind, loyal, strong. He wasn’t a disappointment… he was an inspiration.

She reached out and gently touched his hand, all too aware that any physical contact ran the risk of conveying more than she was ready to admit. But the warmth of his skin against hers provided an odd sense of comfort, grounding her in a way that nothing else could at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” she said softly. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Your blindness doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

He flipped his palm upward to hold hers. “Thank you.”

For a heartbeat, they sat in silence, their hands entwined. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t have to.

Then she remembered something she’d seen on the trail yesterday and got an idea. She stood, pulling him up with her. “How about a change of scenery?”

He hesitated. “Shouldn’t we head out to the cell tower?”

“It can wait another hour until the sun’s up. Come on.”

Sawyer heard the rush of the water and felt the cold spray of it on his face. He smiled. His Lucy was full of surprises. “A waterfall?”

“It’s really more of a trickle than a fall. I found it yesterday when I was trying to find a trail down.” She released his hand, and he heard the rustle of clothes. “C’mon. It’s not a hot bath, but it will get us clean.”

“Are you proposing we skinny dip together, Ranger Harper?” He gave an exaggerated gasp of mock outrage. “My God. If I had pearls, I’d be clutching them.”

“You’re an ass,” Lucy said with a laugh and smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t bring you here for some cheesy romantic moment. We smell bad, and this will help. Also… it’s beautiful.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it on the beautiful part.” He heard her clothes drop into a pile, and his breath caught in his suddenly tight chest. He imagined her body— the curve of her waist, the fullness of her breasts, the roundness of her hips, the strength in her shoulders. He pictured her standing there, the shadows of the trees dappling her skin, the spray of the waterfall dampening her hair. He had no way to know if his imagination was close to reality, but he liked the picture it painted in his head.

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