Page 49 of Fire Peak

Okay, now he got it. She needed to talk to keep herself going. “That’s a good quality to have.”

“You have some good qualities, too.” She sounded almost drunk; maybe from loss of blood, maybe from shock. “You’re good to have around in a crisis.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re very attractive, too.”

He gave a snort of laughter. “Do you mind if I get my phone out? I want this on the record.”

“I’ll deny everything. I’ll say the arrow made me say it.”

“I find you attractive, too. I’m not ashamed to say it.”

“Really? But you also think I’m a criminal. Are you attracted to criminals?”

“Not generally. Anyway, I never said you’re a criminal. That’s not even my call to make. There’s a whole justice system for that.”

He felt her shudder against him. “I don’t want to go to prison. It’s terrible there.”

“Shhh. Maybe you should save your energy. We still have a quarter mile to go.”

“No, you see, part of me always knew I’d end up in prison just like my father. Maybe I wanted it to happen.”

Was she starting to talk nonsense? Was this a bad sign?

“My dad was my hero and I wanted to be just like him. I looked up to him so much, and then he went away and I couldn’t see him and when I did, everything was different.” He glanced at her, concerned by the dark shift in her tone. He spotted a tear on her cheek, but couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or talking about her father. “I just wanted to fix it. I wanted justice. That’s all I ever wanted. I wanted my daddy back and the world to be right again.”

His heart twisted hard. I’ll fix the world for you, he wanted to say. But no one could say that and really mean it. Her father couldn’t, and neither could he.

“He’s out now, remember? He’s okay. He’s getting treatment, and he’s free.”

In the shelter of the thick trunk of a towering cottonwood tree, she paused, catching her breath. He adjusted the position of the arm to ease the ache in his muscles. And then all pain disappeared as she leaned in to brush her lips against his.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his mouth, the contact light as a dragonfly. He could barely breathe. It was so unexpected, and she was so injured and so not herself. What should he do?

He kissed her back. As soon as he felt the press of her soft lips, longing filled his heart. He wanted her. Wanted this. Wanted a connection with this complicated, fascinating woman.

She swayed against him. He realized it wasn’t due to the seduction of his kiss, but the state of her leg. A raindrop hit the top of his head, then another. Literally raining on his damn parade. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “We need to get to that camper.”

Limping at top speed, they almost made it to Solomon’s trailer before the sky opened up—but not quite. By the time they reached his clearing, close to a fast-moving creek, a steady downpour had set in, turning the world into a wash of gray. He used his jacket as an umbrella to shield her for the last few yards.

“There goes another jacket,” she gasped as he pushed open the door of the camper for her. “I hope you brought more.”

“Only one more. Looks like you’re going to have to take me shopping. There’s a mall nearby, right?”

“Ugh, don’t make me laugh. I might faint. Hey, this place is pretty nice!”

It was—shockingly. Having met the odiferous Solomon, he would have expected some kind of hard-drinking-hoarder-bachelor-pad scene. But it was barebones and tidy, with a cushioned bench along one wall that would do nicely for Charlie. The rain drummed on the metal roof, making a sound somewhere between deafening and soothing.

He settled her onto the bench, facing the wall of the camper, and spread his jacket over her. “This bandanna is soaked through. I want to tie something else around your leg, but I’m not sure I trust Solomon’s laundering habits. Okay if I use my t-shirt?”

“Yes, but he might have a first aid kit.”

“Pretty good thinking, for someone with blood loss.” He poked around the cabinets until he found a small leather satchel filled with medical supplies—along with a joint and some mystery tinctures. At least the bandages were still in their packages, so he didn’t have to question their cleanliness.

When he got back to Charlie, she was on her feet, unbuttoning her pants. He gritted his teeth to keep his imagination from going the wrong direction, then helped her ease her joggers over her hips.

Black hip-hugger panties. Long slim legs. Damn. This woman was going to kill him.

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