Page 41 of Protecting the Flame

Chapter 2

“I cannot believe you,”Will said, his long strides on his personal pair of snowshoes lending him an almost easy grace despite his pack. Stopping, he scanned the woods dead ahead. He held a hiking pole in his left hand because, as he’d pointed out, even with his snowshoes and those they’d taken from Burke’s locker for her, the snow was deep, and there was no way to know what really lay beneath their feet. Still, now that the snow had stopped, the path the cockpit had taken was clearly marked by a rough trench of humped snow and shattered limbs that ran away through the woods. “You are a real piece of work, you know that?”

“What are you talking about? I’m out here, aren’t I?” God, she was this close to stabbing him with a hiking pole. This should teach her that honesty was not always the best policy. The only bright spots this morning so far were that they’d gotten a signal fire going and she’d only puked once, quite possibly because there was precious little in there to begin with. Her stomach was as shriveled as a raisin. “I told you, didn’t I? Say I had said something earlier about maybe hearing someone…something…whatever. What did you think you were going to do, Will? Run off to the rescue? First off, you had a dislocated shoulder; second, it was snowing and visibility was crap and stayed crap until today. Third, it was dark. So, what, you’re going to rush out and put the save on somebody?”

His jaw set. “We could have gone out the next day.”

“It…was…snowing,” she reiterated. “We couldn’t have helped anyone, if there even is anyone. I was thinking of what made sense at the time.”

Will shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? Say, it was you out there…”

“No.” She gave the air a karate chop. “Don’t pull that bullshit because it isn’t me or you or Rachel or Mattie. You don’t think I thought about that? Well, I did. But think, Will. We’ve been out here for the last fifteen, twenty minutes, right? We shouted, we called. Has anyone answered? No.”

“Maybe that’s because they can’t.” Will paused. “Now.”

She gave him an incredulous stare. “Don’t be such a sanctimonious asshole. For your information, I really did think it was the wind or an animal or, you know…” She fumbled for the right term. “Wishful thinking.”

“You sure about that?”

That stung. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounded like. But then, again, I’m a sanctimonious asshole, so…whatever.”

“Fine. Fine.” She was cranky, winded, huffing like a blown horse from floundering around in snowshoes made for a man with larger feet. The pointed metal rear end of her shoes kept catching and snagging, flipping up clots of snow as she wallowed. She was about two seconds from ripping the stupid things off. “We don’t know if there is a them.”

“I agree. It might have been nothing. Tell me something, though. Three days ago, did you bother giving a shout?” Before she could reply, he added, “Because I wasn’t asleep when you went out, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve heard you.”

She blinked, her eyes swimmy with angry tears. “It was snowing,” she said, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “It was windy. You were inside the fuselage, and I was a good hundred yards away. You wouldn’t have heard me yell either.”

His reply was nearly as frosty as the air. “Well, I guess we won’t be able to test that, will we?”

“Why are you being like this?”

“You honestly want to know?” His bruises were an ugly shade of green and yellow, and there were coffee-colored smudges under his hazel eyes which held none of the warmth or easy charm they had even last night. “I think the responsibility of caring for even one more person right now completely freaks you out and, believe me, I understand, I really do. You think I’m not scared?”

“You? You’re always so calm.”

“Not inside. I’m scared to death. But I also think Kipling was right.”

If you can keep your head when all about youare losing theirs…Her mother would be proud. “I’m not losing my head. There’s a difference between panic and dealing with, you know, with facts and things you can’t change no matter how much you wish things were different.” If he only knew what she was dealing with… The funny thing, of course, the bust-a-gut hilarious thing was this: working up the courage to do a little slicing and dicing had been a piece of cake compared to what she faced now. She thought again about the pills in her pack. Why was she hanging onto them? She should chuck them before, God forbid, Mattie found them. She could see it now: Mattie, holding up those blister packs. Gee, Emma, what are these? And what would she say? Oh, those little things? I’m saving those for a rainy day.

Richard Gere’s line played on the soundtrack of her mind. Well, guess what? It’s raining. Will was a doctor. One look at those pills, and he’d know. Wait, what did it matter if he knew?

“I think all this talk about responsibility is a bunch of baloney, too,” he said. “I think it’s a cover for something else that’s eating at you. You’re a much better person than you’re letting on.”

Was there an invitation to confide something in there? “Don’t be too sure. You don’t know me.”

“I know you well enough. Mattie told me what you did in the airport.”

“Oh, that?” God, that seemed to have happened to another person. “That was nothing. Scott was a turd, bad news. He’s no loss.”

“That’s brutal. Rachel was married to him.”

“I can’t help that his being an asswipe also happens to be true. He was like all bullies. They’re all bluster and no bite if you’re their equal.” If you weren’t, they squashed you under a combat boot, threatened your family, and killed your husband to show they meant it.

“Except,” Will said, “he is the father of Rachel’s child. There must have been something in him she once loved and probably still does.”

She had nothing to say to that. Her mistake hadn’t been one made because of love. Hers had been one of loss. Vulnerability. She’d trusted the wrong person. Some great judge of character she was.

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