Page 111 of Break My Fall

“You okay?” Gray asked.

She nodded.

“We’re going to get home tonight, baby. It will be warm. We’ll sit by the fire.”

“I’m not sitting outside tonight.” She rubbed her hands together. “I may never sit outside again.”

“Sure you will but not tonight. Tonight, you’re coming to my place. We’ll have the fire roaring. We’ll snuggle under a blanket. We’ll put a movie on, and you’ll fall asleep in the big chair. And I’ll have to explain myself to your dad and your brother and your cousin tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

THIRTY

An hour later, Meredith paused. “I think we’re close.”

Gray looked around them. The trees, the river, the forest—it all looked exactly the same as it had for the last hour. The only thing keeping them going was that they were still moving. But he was soaked. Meredith shivered and stumbled. The last time they spoke, she repeated the story of their long-ago hike. He hadn’t stopped her, and he hadn’t told her she was repeating herself. It wouldn’t help to panic her further.

Her eyes were wide, and her breathing was ragged. If they didn’t get dry and warm soon...

What if they’d gotten in his car? It might have been okay.

Was he dragging the woman he loved through horrific conditions out of fear? Was it all for nothing? She’d fallen four times. He’d fallen twice. One time, she’d slid almost ten feet down a small incline before she got enough traction to stop. It was a miracle she’d stayed on her feet. What if she was injured? What if she suffered something permanent because of him?

What kind of protector was he, anyway? If it hadn’t been for her, they’d be wandering around in circles. He was a city boy. He’dlearned navigation in the Marines, but he wasn’t an outdoorsman. He didn’t know these mountains the way she did.

He’d been all but useless up to this point, but when—he refused to thinkif—they reached this so-called hut, he could put a few skills to use. He might not know how to navigate through a forest the way she did, but he did know how to clear empty buildings in hostile territory. Starting with one simple rule: Never assume the building is empty.

“Why do you think we’re close?”

She pointed across the river. “See those trees?”

He almost said something about how they were surrounded by trees and that she might need to be more specific. But one glance explained it all. Someone had painted the trunks of the trees in multiple neon shades.

Meredith stopped moving and leaned into him. “That is exactly the way I remember it. The pattern is the same: yellow, green, orange, green, orange, yellow, orange, yellow, green.”

The fact that she remembered the pattern made his brain hurt.

“We always figured that it was some kind of signal. The hut is nearby.”

“Okay.”

“Not okay!” He hadn’t realized it was possible to whisper and yell at the same time, but she’d managed it. “It shouldn’t look the same. It should be faded and most of the paint should have peeled off by now. It’s been at least fifteen years. This paint looks like someone did it last week.”

“Agreed.”

“Or it could mean that someone painted the same pattern in a different place and I’m completely wrong.” She put her hands on her temples and squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Gray. I’m trying to think, but everything is getting muddled in my brain.”

“It’s okay. You’re doing great. Is there anything besides the trees that makes you think we’re close?”

She pointed to the river. “The main thing I remember about the hut was that it was in a place where the river made a sharp turn. Not quite a right angle, but close.”

He squinted through the rain and the trees and saw what she meant. Instead of the river stretching out before him, it appeared to stop at a point in the distance. If the riverbed made a sharp turn, that would make sense.

Meredith shivered against him.

“I know you’re freezing, but this is close enough. Let’s see if we can find a place to stop for a few minutes.”

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