Page 67 of A Rebel's Shot

He glanced back up the slope at the bright-blue tarp stretched out. It wasn’t impossible for the bear to hike up it, just not probable.

The gap between the rocks was too small for a bear that size to squeeze into. It was as safe a location as they would get in the circumstance. Besides, the bear was probably miles away by now.

Grabbing the twigs, he scrambled up the rocks. “Merritt, I’m coming in.”

“Okay.” Her faint answer almost didn’t float above the sounds of the forest.

He held his bundle close to his chest as he jumped down into the crevice with a grunt. Hopefully his knee didn’t swell up. They did not need another thing against them.

He stopped short at the sight of Merritt sittingcompletely bundled in a sleeping bag, only her face and hands clutching a steaming mug. Small flames flicked out of the Bushbuddy stove and around his TOAKS pot.

This woman…amazing.

“Good job, Merritt.” He set the bundle of twigs next to the packs against the wall. “This will make starting the fire a cinch.”

“I used all the kindling.” Her trembling voice pulled his attention to her.

“That’s fine. Lots of forest around to replace it.”

Her chin quivered and eyes turned bright with tears. “And I wasted eight matches before I could get it started.”

“It’s okay.”

He crawled over to her and cupped her cheek. Dried tears covered her skin. He rubbed his thumb across the tear track. She stared into the fire with a despondency that scared him.

“I have a few Bic lighters, so we’ll be okay.” He tipped her chin so she looked at him. “You did really good, Merritt. This will save me so much time, and I’ll be able to warm up faster. Thank you.”

One tear broke free and rushed down her still too pale cheek. He caught it with his lips, kissing her softly. She leaned into his touch.

“We’re going to be okay.” He kissed her cold cheek again. “Promise.”

He pulled away. The doubt in her eyes gutted him, but he’d prove he was right. He was more at home in the woods than anywhere else. He’d get them out, then they’d get her scumbag uncle behind bars.

Tiikâan’s muscles protested as he hauled himself out of the crevice. The cold air bit through his still damp shirt, not that he didn’t need the reminder to hustle. He glanced back at Merritt, her small form huddled by the fire, before setting his jaw and getting to work.

He ferried the branches to their makeshift shelter. Each trip felt longer than the last, his body screaming for warmth and rest. But the image of Merritt’s tear-stained face drove him forward. He’d promised her they’d be okay, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.

A nearby boulder caught his eye, its jagged surface offering the perfect tool. Tiikâan wedged a branch into a deep crack and leaned his weight against it.

The wood groaned, then snapped with a satisfying crack. He repeated the process, his movements becoming more fluid as he found a rhythm.

As he worked, his mind wandered to Merritt. Her resourcefulness in getting the fire started had impressed him. It wasn’t easy to start a flame in the little firebox when your fingers shook. She was tougher than she looked, his city girl.

His?

Rightness filled him. Yeah, as barbaric as it was to claim her as his own, he did. One hundred percent.

With each log he stacked under the tarp at the edge of the opening, Tiikâan felt a little more in control. This was his element. He might not be able to protect Merritt from her uncle’s schemes, but here, in the wilderness, he could keep her safe.

Finally satisfied with the pile of firewood, Tiikâan climbed back into their shelter. His body ached, but asense of accomplishment warmed him from the inside. He’d done what needed to be done. Now it was time to tend to Merritt and figure out their next move.

Tiikâan’s teeth chattered as he stumbled toward their gear. His hands shook so violently he could barely grip the straps of his backpack. He needed to move everything.

Now.

Before his muscles seized up completely.

“What are you doing?” Merritt’s voice was muffled by the sleeping bag cocoon.

---