Page 78 of Wanting a Family Man

“Yeah?” He came to crouch in front of her, once again wanting to snatch her into his arms, but she stiffened and eyed him warily. “Can I see your foot?”

He almost thought she would refuse, but she poked her foot at him from beneath the shiny survival blanket.

“Are you naked under there?”

“Shorts.”

“Mmm.” He gently cradled her heel as he unwrapped the bandage, then very, very lightly probed the swelling.

She gasped and tried to jerk her foot away.

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being you slammed your finger in a car door, how much pain was that?”

“I’ve never actually slammed my finger in a door. I rammed my knee into a car bumper once. I saw stars and it swelled up like a balloon. I couldn’t walk for three days, but it wasn’t fractured. This is about that bad.”

“Hmph. Can you feel all your toes?” He squeezed each one.

“Oui, oui, oui.”

“Funny. This?” He ran his finger up and down her sole.

“Tickles more than it hurts.” Her foot twitched in his grip again.

“And what have you eaten?”

“One soup with noodles.” She looked toward her bag.

She’d been rationing, not trusting him to come back for her. He took that like a gut punch.

“Let’s eat a couple MREs before we go. Meal, Ready to Eat,” he translated. Dehydrated soups were fine on a day hike, but they’d both used a lot of calories today. He offered her a choice between the beef stroganoff and the mac and cheese with sausage bites.

She took the mac and cheese and they ate them cold, straight from the pouch. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible.

“I saw the wolf. He was up on the waterfall.”

“Yeah? Does that mean you’re nervous about going that direction?”

“They target the weak and injured, don’t they?” She frowned, perhaps thinking her dark humor was too close to the truth. “I don’t have a choice, do I? Let’s just go.”

He rinsed out their pouches when they finished, to reduce the smell, before he rolled them up to carry them out with the rest of their trash.

Cloe made a face as she pushed her legs into her dirty, still damp jeans. She tried her boot only to sigh because it was a lost cause. They took a minute to adjust the crutches, then she took a few strides with them.

“I’ll take our bags to the top of the waterfall, then I’ll come back to carry you up.”

“Why? The crutches are fine.” She demonstrated with a few more steps.

“On flat ground. I’m not risking you tumbling down the bank again.” He had a feeling he’d be snapping awake from that nightmare for a while. “Use this to start wetting down the fire.” He handed her a cup and stole her crutches.

“Hey!”

“So we don’t have to carry them when you’re on my back.”

“I’m not climbing onto your back,” she said behind him, but he ignored her, taking all their gear to the top of the hill in five minutes.

By the time he returned, she was using a stick to stir up the soaked fire pit, ensuring it was thoroughly out.

“Looks good.” He crouched in front of her, back turned.

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