Page 63 of A Rebel's Shot

He pointed to the cliffs jutting up from the river on the other side to the tree-lined banks on the side they were on, the trees practically bowing over the river. “No landing space for a plane, and even the hotshot helicopter pilot brother of mine wouldn’t be able to get his bird in that tight area.”

She crawled to her knees, but when she went to stand, her legs collapsed. “I don’t… I can’t.”

Tears burned her eyes and closed her throat. How could her uncle, her dad’s only relative aside from herself, do this? Had Dad known it was Nolan and that was why he said to trust no one?

She bent over her knees and put her forehead on the cold mud, the urge to vomit having nothing to do with swallowing gallons of water. She attempted to rein in the emotions threatening to drown her, just as the river had tried. But her deep breaths caught and stuttered with silent sobs.

A large, warm hand settled on her back, rubbing in slow circles. Tiikâan didn’t tell her to suck it up. He didn’t.

He simply kneeled beside her, like he knew there was no holding back the tide within her. Each circle of his palm loosened the tightness in her chest, making breathing easier. Each deep breath calmed her mind a bit more.

Maybe riding out the tsunami of emotions instead of fighting it would help her cope. Because struggling against everything building in her since her dad’s death—shoot, since her mom’s death when she was seven—dragged her to a place and into a person she didn’t want to be.

With the ability to breathe again, she prayed for strength, not only of body but of mind. If she didn’t want Nolan’s betrayal to destroy her, she needed both. Otherwise, the now-tainted memories rushing through her mind would make her tenuous hold snap.

“I’m fine.” Her trembling voice called her a liar. She took another deep breath and sat up. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Tiikâan stood and held out his hand to help her up. “But you will be. Mom always said it’s okay if you need a breather when you get the wind knocked out of you. But getting it knocked out of you and letting it knock you down are two different things.”

“I’d love to meet your mom.” The image of a home filled with love and the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls took place in her mind.

“Oh, you will.” He wrapped his hand around her arm. “As soon as we get out of here, I’m taking you home.”

“Really?”

“We’re not letting go, remember?”

Oh, she remembered all right. She swore her lips still tingled.

“Though, knowing my family, as soon as they realize we’re missing, even if they think it’s just our bodies, they’ll all be in Barrow with a hotel room as their base. Maps with search grids will be tacked to the walls, and no stone will be left unturned.”

As he talked about the type of family she’d always fantasized about growing up, she got her feet under her.Her legs shouldn’t feel so heavy. When she pushed to stand, even with Tiikâan pulling her, her knees buckled.

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t—” A tear slipped from her eye.

“Hey. Your body’s toast. Tapped out.” He cupped her cheek with his chilled hands and wiped the tear with his thumb. “That tends to happen when you survive not only a plane crash but almost drowning.”

He grabbed her pack and handed it to her. “Hold this in front of you.”

When she had it in her lap, he bent and scooped her into his arms like a baby… or a bride. His arm muscles trembled beneath her thighs and across her back. He took a step, adjusted his hold on her, then continued through the woods.

“Tiikâan, no.” She tried to shift to have him put her down, but he tightened his hands. “I can walk if you help me. You’ve got to be close to exhaustion, too.”

“I’m good. At least for a bit.” He turned sideways to push them through some tightly woven willow branches. “We don’t need to go far. We just need to find a place to bunk down.”

Merritt nestled against Tiikâan’s chest, her heart racing at the closeness. His steady breathing and the rhythmic crunch of his footsteps on the forest floor lulled her into a trancelike state. She fought to keep her eyes open, watching the moss-covered ground and gnarled roots pass beneath them.

With each step, she expected him to set her down, but he pressed on, his muscles trembling beneath her. The urge to protest bubbled up in her throat, but sheswallowed it back. There was something comforting, almost primal, about being carried like this through the wilderness.

“What exactly are we looking for?” she finally thought to ask.

Her legs may be spent, but her eyes still worked.

Tiikâan’s chest rumbled as he spoke. “Somewhere with dry ground. We need to get out of these wet clothes before hypothermia sets in.”

Merritt’s cheeks flushed thinking about changing clothes in front of him, but she pushed the thought aside and focused on their surroundings.

The Alaskan wilderness seemed determined to thwart their efforts. Every patch of earth glistened with moisture, and the air itself felt heavy with humidity from the storm. Or maybe that was the constant atmosphere of the Brooks Range.

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