Page 16 of His Lost Mate

“What about you?” she asked, crossing her arms despite the ache in her ribs.

“I’ll manage,” he said simply, setting his pack down near the door.

Phoebe frowned, watching him as he moved to check the window, his broad frame silhouetted against the faint glow of the late afternoon sun. He was always in control, always thinking three steps ahead, and it was maddening. But it was also... something else. Something that made her glad that of all the men in the world, it was Jonah who had found her. Every time he spoke in that low, steady voice that left no room for argument he also provided a bit of solace.

“Try and take it easy. I’m going to go see what I can find us for dinner. If you’re up to it, see what might be here. Some of these ‘hunters’ replenish the supplies that are used but check expiration date. But your primary job is to rest so you can sleep well tonight,” Jonah said, breaking her train of thought. He turned to face her. “We’ll need to move again at first light.”

He moved to the kitchen area and primed the hand pump, working on it until he had water flowing. He cupped some in his hand and sipped. “The water looks like it’s from a well. I’ve got some purification tablets, but I’d rather save them for anything we have to get from a stream or snow we might have to melt. I think we can trust what we get from here for tonight and in the morning.”

Phoebe hesitated and then nodded. “Jonah,” she said quietly, her voice softer than she intended.

“What?” His gaze didn’t waver, but there was something in his tone—something almost vulnerable.

“Thank you,” she said, her throat tightening. “For... everything. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

His jaw tightened, and she thought he might brush her off. But then he stepped closer, his voice low and rough. “Don’t thank me yet. When we get to safety, then you can thank me. For now, just stay alive.”

Phoebe’s breath hitched as he stood over her, his presence overwhelming. The heat radiating from him was a stark contrastto the chill in the air, and she felt her pulse quicken as his eyes lingered on hers, something unspoken passing between them.

“Get some rest,” he said finally, stepping back. “I won’t go too far, and I shouldn’t be long.”

Phoebe nodded, her heart racing as she sat on the edge of the surprisingly comfortable mattress. Not content to be the damsel in distress, she listened as Jonah’s footsteps faded into the forest. The cabin was still and quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood settling under its own weight. She rubbed her hands together, trying to bring some warmth back into her fingers. Her gaze wandered to the wood stove in the corner, an idea forming in her mind.

She rose, wincing slightly as her ribs protested, and crossed the room to inspect the stove. Inside, a neat stack of dry kindling and logs awaited use. She grabbed a few pieces, arranging them carefully, and struck a match she’d found in a rusted tin on the shelf. Within moments, a flickering flame grew into a comforting fire, spreading warmth through the small space.

Encouraged, Phoebe moved to the old hand pump and sink. She worked the handle, gritting her teeth as her arms protested the effort. At first, water only sputtered out, but then began to flow steadily into the basin below. She smiled in triumph, filling a dented tin cup she’d found and taking a tentative sip. The water was cold and fresh, a small victory in a day that had felt like endless defeat.

Her exploration of the shelves revealed an unopened can of coffee, its label faded but still intact. She set it on the small counter near the stove, imagining the possibility of warmth and caffeine for the first time in what felt like forever. The small comforts brought a flicker of hope that she hadn’t realized she needed.

When the door creaked open, Phoebe turned to see Jonah stepping inside, his arms full. He carried a skinned and cleaned rabbit, its pale flesh glinting faintly in the firelight.

“You’ve been busy,” he remarked, scanning the now-warm room and the bubbling pump.

Phoebe shrugged, brushing her hands against her jacket. “Figured I’d make myself useful.”

Jonah gave her a small nod of approval, setting the rabbit down on the counter. “Good. I’ll take care of this.”

He worked with quick, efficient movements, cutting the rabbit into portions and skewering the meat onto a makeshift spit. He positioned it over the fire, the smell of cooking meat soon filling the cabin.

As they sat to eat, the silence between them felt heavier than before. Phoebe picked at the tender rabbit, her mind turning over thoughts she’d buried for years. Jonah ate methodically, his focus unbroken, until she finally broke the quiet.

“My dad was in the Air Force,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “He was a colonel. The kind of man who thought discipline and duty were everything. Growing up, it felt like I wasn’t his daughter—I was his soldier in training.”

Jonah glanced at her, his expression unreadable but his attention unwavering. “Tough upbringing.”

Phoebe huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it. He didn’t care about feelings or connections. Just results. And when I didn’t re-enlist after my tour, he... cut me off. Disowned me, essentially.”

Jonah’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I thought leaving the military would free me from his shadow,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “But it didn’t. Every decision I’ve made since has been about proving I’m good enough without him. That I’m strong on my own.”

Jonah set his plate aside, leaning forward slightly. “Sounds like you’ve been carrying that for a long time.”

Phoebe nodded, her throat tightening. “I thought I’d buried it. But out here... with everything happening, it feels like it’s all coming back.”

Jonah’s gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. “I know what that’s like.”

Phoebe tilted her head, her brows knitting together. “Do you?”

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